Who Is He?
by Lacey-Mae Emelia
Summary: Hermione is alone, afraid, left to battle her own private war without the help of her friends. A familiar face is at close hand, but is this a source of comfort or terror? She thought she knew him. But just who is he?
1. Chapter 1

When Hermione Granger finds herself alone things can easily go from bad to worse. A certain familiar face appears, however is this a source of comfort or a source of terror? The man she _thought_ knew: just who is he?

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><p><strong>Who Is He?<strong>

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><p>The dense canopy of the forest ceiling created an eerie green light and cast long shadows all around. A few pinpricks of light managed to battle their way through the layers of foliage but they were soon lost in the darkness of the forest. There was no wind and everything was silent and still. No birds sang, no leaves rustled, no animals ran amongst the scattered leaves, no water trickled in the brook.<p>

In a moment the silence was broken by a crack and a muffled thump, the sound resonating and vibrating off the large tree trunks, before the forest fell quiet once again.

Suddenly, a small white rabbit darted from out of the ground, its whiskers twitching as it smelled the air. It shook its bobbed tail and ran off into the undergrowth, following a scent until it hit it and stopped. Its nose sniffed around the strange new object that lay stiffly on the floor. The rabbit wondered whether it was food.

Without warning the 'food' shuddered and the rabbit took off in a white blur.

The hand that the nose had been sniffing at moved, fingers curling one at a time, bending and straightening. The hand of which those fingers were attached flexed also, moving in a slow circle. A neck moved stiffly, tendons stretching like vines beneath white skin. Cracked lips parted slightly, tasting the stale forest air. Fawn eyes opened, pupils dilating into black orbs, then closed again. The body slumped amongst the dry leaves and Hermione Granger fall back to the clutches of unconsciousness.

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><p>The girl woke with a start, her eyes snapping open. At first she thought that she was blind as all she could make out was a thick darkness, however slowly her eyes adjusted so that she could make out darker shadows in the black. She tried to sit up but let out a gasp of pain and a hand flew to her abdomen. With an great effort though she managed to role over and crawl her way over to a large tree trunk, collapsing against it, her back to the cold, damp bark.<p>

An almost animal wail filled the night as the weight of the situation that the girl was in came crashing down on her and she let out a startling cry of sorrow. She was lost. She was alone. She tried to remember how she came to be in this place.

_A gooey mess of white and yellow slime had managed to stick itself to the bottom of the frying pan which was being stared at intensely by one red headed boy._

_"Honestly, I don't know what I did wrong!" he spoke seriously, still trying to work out what had happened to the egg he had been trying to cook. "When Mum does it she makes it look so easy, Just crack, plop, Bob's your uncle, here's your breakfast"._

_Hermione tried to stifle a laugh at the look on her best friends face. Coming over to where he sat she muttered "Scourgify", pointing her wand at the mess that quivered in the frying pan, until the last remnants of its had disappeared. "Budge up", she spoke, moving to sit down next to the boy and softly elbowing him in the ribs until he scooted over on the fallen tree trunk._

_Levitating one of the few remaining eggs that they had found to her, she took it in one hand, neatly cracked it and upended it so that it formed a perfect white circle with a perfect yellow sun sitting at its centre._

_"What would we do without you hey 'Mi' the boy smiled, his eyes lingering on her for just a moment longer than a friend might expect._

_"Oh Ronald," she joked back "you would probably have starved to death by now, forget you-know-who, I think salmonella is more of a threat!". They both laughed, letting the sun fall on their faces, a rare moment of pleasure in the dark times. Their arms touched and both felt absurdly content._

_Ron's face turned slowly towards Hermione and he looked as though he were about to lean in and close the distance but he suddenly seemed to think better of it and stood up quickly. "I'd better go and get some more firewood you know, might get cold tonight", he laughed nervously and moved off into the forest. Hermione frowned when she looked at the pile of wood which was piled next to the tent which Ron had gathered just the evening before, but smiled over her bumbling friend. She wondered if he would ever pluck up the courage to kiss her._

_She was still smiling when there was a low howl only a few feet away. Immediately she stood, her wand in hand, ready and pointing at the trees. She heard the flaps of the tent swing quickly open behind her and she know that Harry Potter now stood behind her, also scanning around to see where the noise had come from._

_There was the crack of a branch, breaking underneath a heavy footfall, and both witch and wizard turned sharply to meet the sound. At first they could see nothing, until suddenly the red hair of Ron could be seen. His friends could only look on it horror as they noticed the sharp grey blade at his throat and the hand behind him that pushed him forward. His neck was tilted back at a sharp angle, trying to back away from the knife blade, but his eyes tried to find his friends, trying to warn them._

_"Now now little children, I think you should lower your wands don't you? We wouldn't want this poor little fox cub here to end up being fed to the wolves now would we?", a dirty voice cooed from behind Ron, using the boy as a shield._

_Harry and Hermione both brought their wands to the ground, placing them onto the floor and stepping backwards with both palms raised. The man laughed, a malicious and taunting sound which echoed around the clearing in which they stood._

_Without warning more laughs filled the air from all sides and Harry and Hermione whipped their heads around to see where the sounds came from. They both shivered involuntarily with fear when they saw that through the gaps in the trees there stood blackly clad men, each carrying knives and heavy hammers which they swung in their hands. Their hands and faces were dirty, their clothes ragged in some places. Snatchers._

_The man that stood behind Ron stepped forward so that he stood next to him, yet the knife at Ron's throat didn't move. His hair was a dark black and hung in lanky tendrils to his shoulders. He wore black like the rest of his men but his clothes looked more expensive, although still covered in dirt and filth. Hermione could smell him from where she stood._

_Their captor's face broke into a crooked smile as he eyed the two people in front of him. "You", he pointed a grubby finger at Harry, "are going to make me a very rich man indeed", he sneered, his face contorting even more into a hideous mask of putrid disgust. "Men; grab them", he cried._

_Harry launched a kick at the ground, spraying soil over the man's face and in his eyes. He coughed and spluttered, backing away and releasing his hold on Ron. Both Hermione and Harry rushed forward to pick up their wands, turning to fire spells at the advancing men who had now dropped their weapons and pulled out wands._

_"Petrificus Totalus" Hermione shouted, her wand aimed at a large man who fell over onto his face as a result of the body bind curse. They had created a gap in their circle of advancing captors and all three made a run for it, jumping over a fallen log that stood in their way, running for their lives, feet pounding hard against the earth._

_"After them!", the leader screamed, his eyes red and raw. The remaining Snatchers launched themselves after the three teenagers, firing spell between the trees. Some rebounded and caught their makers so that they were cursed by their own spell, but some managed to find the gaps. "We need to apparate!" Hermione yelled, shouting to the boys either side of her who were not quite close enough for her to reach out and apparate with._

_They ran forward still, trying to meet together. Hermione reached out a hand to grab both boys, her finger skimming there's when suddenly there was an excruciating pain all over her body. She fell backward from the spell, but it was too late, she had already begun to apparate before the spell had hit her. She felt herself being sucked into the void and was still imagining the forest when she landed in another. The pain burned all over and the green light faded into blackness before she lost all consciousness, alone and forsaken on the ancient forest floor._

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><p>Hermione sobbed to herself as she realised that there was no way of finding her friends again, her shoulders racking with the weight of those sobs. Finally she appeared to tire herself out as her eyes closed and her head fell back against the trunk on which she rested. One hand clutched tightly at her wand, the other at her midriff as she slept.<p>

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><p>Hermione's eyes flicked open, trying to look around her in vain. It was still dark and not a sound could be heard, yet Hermione had woken. She had felt someone, something, staring at her in the dark.<p>

Her fingers curled tightly around her wand, her knuckles white. She considered lighting the tip of her wand with the lumos spell but held back, mostly out of fear for what she would see if she did.

Still the forest remained silent but now, awake, she could feel a set of eyes on her more than ever. It was as if they were bearing into her side. She could have screamed but the panic that coursed through her body paralysed her. It was then she realised that it was not just the fear, she literally couldn't move. Whatever spell it was that she had been hit with had done something to her, something bad. She could feel the dried blood that crusted on her hands.

Hermione's head snapped to her right side as she heard a branch snap underfoot, only metres away. The bubble popped and the scream which she had been holding let loose, a piercing cry that shattered the silence of the forest.

The sound of heavy footsteps moved quickly towards her now, their owner not bothering to conceal his presence any longer now than he had been found. Hermione tried to shuffle away from the sound, thankful that her eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness, terrified of what, or who, approached her.

She groaned as hot breath, stale and sour raked across her skin.

"Hello little girl" a guttural voice sounded at her ear, rough and rasping. "Come play with the big bad wolf".

It was too much for Hermione and the world shut down around her.

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><p><em><strong>AN**_

So I know no Snape in this chapter but much more to come, I promise! Please let me know what you think, reviews make me terribly happy.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione's eyes slowly opened, the world before her coming into focus. She was on her side, her cheek pressing hard into cold grey flagstones that ran the length of the room. She placed her palm flat down onto the floor, trying to push herself up, but in apparent vein. It was if her body was made of lead and the small portion of it that she had tried to raise came crashing back down. She groaned as a muted pain ran down her left side. The world seemed like it was fading into blackness again, before becoming impossibly sharp, so that she could see every crack and every crevice on the age-old stones.

Over the ringing which had settled into her ears she heard a steady tread of footsteps, their tattoo echoing, becoming louder as they approached her. Hermione's brain felt fuzzy and full; she did not know where she was, or how she had got here, but there was no mistaking the hot lick of fear in her belly, her instinct to run was overwhelming. But she could not run, she could barely even move. Praying for her aching muscles to move she slowly moved her hand to her side, feeling desperately for her wand, never praying so much for the cool touch of smooth wood under her fingers. But they met only the scratch of denim and empty air.

The footsteps had stopped. Without warning a force had grabbed roughly around her collar, catching her hair, making her eyes water. She was pulled to her feet forcefully. Her legs immediately collapsed underneath her but she felt a hand underneath her shoulders pulling her up, although it was not a caring support, instead feeling as if she were being thrown about like a rag doll. With one last effort she tried to twist away from the hand, but the effort that she exhausted was wasted. The hand merely tightened its grip, fingers digging into her flesh.

She was being half dragged, half carried across the room which at first she had presumed was a dungeon. But now she realised how wrong she had been. Although she could not lift her head far, she could make out deep jade walls and silver glinting along their length. She could see a window ledge although no shadows were cast on the floor. Through the haze of her mind, she registered that it was still night time. She tried to lift her heavy eyelids, but she managed to see no more than only a few meagre details: the plush red of a rug, the wooden legs of a chair, and most importantly, an open door.

Without warning she was thrown to the floor, her head coming sharply in contact with the stone. A searing pain shot through her temple and behind her eyes. She could hear nothing but a sharp peal in her ears. The pain was incredible; she prayed that she would pass out, but somehow she remained conscious, albeit pitiful and helpless, like an animal waiting to die.

Opening her eyes groggily she made out a pair of shoes before her, black, leather, half covered by fraying robes. The robes bent lowers and shoulders came into view, followed by a long neck. She could feel hair on her face and hot breath assaulting her senses, she tried to turn her head away but fingers grasped at her chin and held her steady.

"Well, well, well", a venomous whisper sounded at her ear, "look what we have here". Hermione could hear laughter, not just directly above her, but from around her as well. She could sense that there were others in the hall. She tried to force words out of her crackled lips, a plea, an insult, a beg, anything that would help her, save her, but nothing came other than a dry cough.

"Where's your little itzy friends, where are they hiding? You must know by now that I will _always_ find you" the voice spat at her, spittle landing on her cheek from the force of the words. Hermione didn't answer, shut her eyes and tryed to crawl away deep inside of herself.

"Where are they!" the voice screamed. Hermione winced, coughing, trying to form words.

"I...don't...know", she managed to get out breathlessly, her body crying out for some water to quench her parched mouth.

"Liar!" the bitter voice screeched again. Hermione was suddenly thrown onto her back and she felt the weight as someone climbed on top of her, squeezing shut her eyes, trying to pretend that this was not happened. She could feel her sleeves being pushing up forcefully, exposing her bare forearms to the chill in the air.

Suddenly there was a searing pain in her wrist and her eyes shot open. The woman's face before her was mutated into a disgusting snarl, her lips pulled back over yellowing teeth and her eyes full of hate and malice. Her concentration was focused directly on Hermione's arm, her wand tracing patterns over the flesh.

The pain was intolerable, a searing scalpel through her skin. Hermione's previously sluggish body was alive with a thousand nerve endings and her back arched violently, arms trying to prise themselves away from the vice like grips that help them back. A scream filled the air, reverberating around the room. Hermione comprehended it in the depths of her mind where she was slowly retreating to, not realising that the sound had actually escaped from her lips. She could feel the darkness tugging at the edges of her consciousness and willed it on, if only to get away from the pain, to make it stop. She wished they would kill her and get it over with, anything was better than this.

With glorious release the pain suddenly stopped as Hermione made out a man's voice over the animal wail of the screams erupting forth from her.

"Bella?" the deep voice questioned. Hermione felt the weight leave her and she slumped down to the cold ground once more, unable to control the jerks that passed through her body, remnants of the pain, although a faint stirring in her memory at the sound of the voice still washing through her.

"Look what Fenrir caught, look what Fenrir caught", Bella danced gleefully around the man, who afforded only a passing glance at the figure lying motionless on the floor. "Imagine what this means... the Dark Lord will praise us all", she laughed vindictively, "we caught Potters _pet_' she spat, eying the shape on the floor darkly.

"We were just having a little girl time you see", Bella laughed. A shadow of something passed over the man's features but was gone as soon as it arrived and his face stood as expressionless as a marble statute. "But now I think its only fair to let the others play".

A tall man that was standing in the shadows of a corner stepped forward, a grin forming on his savage face. His nose was pressed flat, and his eyes were yellow. Wiry hair grew all around his face, forming over his forehead and cheeks, melting into his greasy hairline. His long black coat was ripped in places and splashed with mud, swinging against heavy black boots as he walked forward.

"_What_, do you think you're doing", the man at Bella's side spoke loudly and forcefully, glaring at the approaching creature.

"Finders, keepers" he hissed back, although his pace had slowed to a halt.

"I do not think so", the blackly clad man spoke, and this time he was the one that stepped forward. Bella eyed him suspiciously from under her heavy brows, fingers clutching tightly at her wand, expression brooding.

"She is mine", he said in barely more than a whisper although his voice seemed to carry the weight as if he had shouted it aloud. "Fenrir, go get a muggle girl to play with, we know how you love to rip them to shreds", he eyed Fenrir darkly. "We need to keep this filthy mudblood alive", he explained, "but I see no plausible reason why I should be neglected her...company for the time being".

Bella laughed, a high pitched squeal, drawing closer to the man at her side. Despite his being a head taller than her she reached up, placing her mouth only inches from his ear. "Does the Professor want to teach his student a lesson", she breathed, "poor Severus," she continued, leaning even closer, "how long has it been since you fucked a woman?"

Immediately the man rounded on her. "Move out of my way Bella", he snarled. Reaching down to pick the semi-conscious girl up, he dragged her to her feet, her legs immediately buckling. Drawing his wand almost lazily from his robe sleeve he wordlessly created a spell. _Levioso_. Hermione floated into the air, her eyes only opening slightly before falling shut again. "Move", he commanded the small crowd of death eaters stationed around the door, unable to see their expressions behind their shimmering masks.

"It would appear that I am in need of a room for the evening", Severus said as he was met by a bedraggled looking Lucius Malfoy. The man, whose eyes were bloodshot, and whose stubble showed visibly his fall from grace, still managed a sneer. "This way", he said guiding them down the long hallway and up a flight of stairs, pointing towards an open door. Severus merely nodded, shutting the door behind him rather violently, and levitating the girl to the bed.

Turning his back to her he held up his wand, warding the room, muttering spells under his breath too low to be heard. When he appeared satisfied he turned quickly back towards the girl that lay on the bed, drawing straight to her side. Her head lolled and her skin was pale, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He stared in horror as his eyes traced over her body, looking at the blood congealed on her shirt, and at the scars and bruises forming on her bare skin.

He picked up her wrist gently with the aim of feeling her pulse when he felt the girl wince, an involuntary spasm of pain. Pulling up her sleeve her felt a wave of nausea in his stomach and his breathing hitched in his throat. There, spelled out in cramped letters on her forearm, was the word 'mudblood'. The letters were carved deeply and blood had run in streams along the white of her skin, pooling at the crease of her elbow. Severus could feel the dark magic radiating from the cuts, a pulsing force that seemed to beat with its own life energy. There was nothing he could do. The mark would stay with her forever.

Picking up her opposite wrist he this time managed to feel for her pulse, beating shallow and irregularly. She had lost blood, a lot of it...too much. He had to ascertain her injuries and gulped as he reached a hand out to lift up her shirt. His normal steady hands shook with a slight tremor and he tried to ignore the feeling of pure disgust as his hand grazed the skin of her pelvis. His mind could only drift back to the women who he'd been forced to violate, just girls really. He could remember each and every one of them; the look of fright in their eyes as they tried in vain to back away, only to be pushed back into the cramped circle of death eaters; the anger as they tried to fight back, the pleading and their crying, some loud, some quiet, some silent. And finally the sheer resignation, the acceptance that they would die on the ground on which they lay. Severus could not bear himself for what he had done, the look in their eyes haunting him every single waking moment.

Hermione's own eyes slowly lifted, making our the figure of the man before her. He was standing next to her slumped form and his hand had found its way underneath her top. Hermione cried out in terror and panic, trying desperately to get away from whoever it was that was encroaching on her dignity so forcefully.

Her futile attempts to get away from him were pointless as he gripped her around the shoulders, preventing her from moving, although Hermione tried to struggle in his grasp. But her energy reserves had been spent and she sagged, a tear making its way down a dirt stained cheek. She had almost known that they had faced the risk of dying, faced the risk of being caught, but she had never seriously considered the consequences. She had always pictured herself dying a heroic death, slaying evil forces, or sacrificing her life for one of her friends, and a sob escaped from her lips when she realised she would die alone, most probably raped and tortured, alone and scared. A pitiful death.

She was aware that the man before her had said something and he repeated it now again. It was the same deep powerful voice that she had heard in the hall, and once again she felt something tugging at her memory, still shrouded in a veil of shadow.

"Miss Granger, please, I will not harm you. You have my word".

For the first time since she had regained consciousness Hermione looked at the man before her, whose hands still held tightly to her shoulders. His black hair fell to his broad shoulders and his brows were heavy and dark. His thin lips were drawn tight into what seemed a perpetual sneer and his nose was long and large. But looking into his eyes the veil was pulled back, the deep crevices of twilight stirring in Hermione a rainbow of emotions: from recognition to trust, hope, anger, betrayal, hate.

Severus watched as the emotions passed over her bruised face, and lowered his gaze when he saw the look of disgust in which it settled in. He loosened his grip on her arms and straightened up, making his way to the corner of the room.

Seeing her chance Hermione drew on every last bit of energy and strength that she had and tried to run to the empty door. As soon as her feet touched the floor though she felt her knees give way, but a strong pair of arms wrapped around her, hauling her back to her feet. She tried to struggle against them.

"You traitor!" she shouted, twisting her body to try and free herself from his grip. "You traitor!", she yelled again, "how dare you!".

"Miss Granger please, calm yourself", came a voice from behind her, his tone low.

"Calm myself?" Hermione exclaimed, "you, you killed Dumbledore... you were going to, to..." her words trailed off, not even able to force the word out of her mouth, even though it clawed at her insides, threatening to rip her to shreds.

"You are obviously injured, please let me help you and then I shall endeavour to explain...everything", Snape pleaded, his arms still wrapped tightly around his student. She continued to struggle but calmed marginally at his words. She was silent for a few moments. "How can I trust you? After everything you have done?". She spoke in a slow and steady tone, but her voice was full of bitterness and doubt.

"If I were not trustworthy then you would not be standing her, Miss Granger", Severus said dangerously, his eyes and Hermione's both flitting to the crumpled bedsheets. "I will not harm you", he repeated again, and this time Hermione appeared defeated.

He helped her to back onto the bed, backing away as soon as she appeared comfortable, putting as much distance between them as he possibly could. Hermione's eyes never left him, but neither did her gaze catch his own. The silence in the room grew as not one of its two inhabitants made any move to speak first, remaining motionless, as if one movement or sound would shatter their fragile truce.

It was Snape who spoke first.

"We are in a precarious situation, Miss Granger, one in which I'm afraid I cannot share with you all of its complexities and inner workings just yet. Time is not on our side". Hermione's eyes did not leave the spot on his shoulder where they appeared transfixed, scared to let him out of her sight but scared to look at the man who she had seen nearly every day for the past seven years, but realised she knew absolutely nothing about. She gave a small incline of her head to show that she understood, but apart from the small gesture remained unmoving.

"I require something of you. Something that it will be tremendously hard to give, maybe even impossible, but it is needed, no, it is _vital_ that you give me what I ask". Snape's black eyes focused on the girl in front of him, petitioning her to whatever it was that he wanted. Hermione felt a shiver run down her skin and the hairs on her arms stood on end. _What could a fully grown man, the enemy in fact, want with Harry Potter's best friend, in a locked and warded room?_ Hermione gagged involuntarily, bending over slightly, gasping when she felt a searing white hot wave of pain pass through her mid-section. Immediately Snape was at her side, his cold white fingers resting on her arm, a subconscious action of concern on his part which he immediately regretted. Hermione flinched away from him, trying to shrug off his touch unsuccessfully.

He said nothing, and tried no longer to remove her hand from where it clutched her abdomen. Of his own accord, he moved away again. Hermione's pale face finally turned to face him, a line of sweat making its way from her forehead and tracing her jaw line, her expression a mask of pain. Although she was almost sure of the answer he was about to give, she asked the question nonetheless, too afraid to actually spill her fears out loud.

"What is it you want?", she struggled to say through gritted teeth. Snape paused for a second and then stepped forward, uttering just one word.

"Trust".

A spectrum of emotions washed over Hermione. She had not expected _that_ answer, but trust this man with what exactly? Her life? Her friends' lives? How could she trust him, after everything he had done to help tear down the world in which she lived? Another wave of pain passed through her and she almost cried out, but stifled it through pursed lips. There was no other way out of this situation, dead or alive, than to trust him, but that did not mean that he would see her weak. She nodded weakly to Snape would understood its meaning immediately.

In a few short strides he was next to the bed and this time Hermione moved her hand when Snape gently coaxed it away. Her hand immediately clutched at his though and her eyes flashed open and wide when she felt him gently lifting her shirt away from her skin.

"I need to ascertain your injury before we contemplate anything else" Snape said, calmly, matter of factly. His eyes appeared to have lost their depth, now just flat pools of tenebrous colour. Hermione's hand hovered momentarily, before dropping back to her side again.

Snape's face conveyed nothing as he lifted the blood-encrusted shirt up to reveal the wound beneath. It was large and gaping, fraying at the edges. And it was deep, very deep. If the spell cast had hit her another couple of inches above, well, she would not be here, or anywhere.

"Miss Granger, you have been hit by what appears to be a _defodio_ curse; you are extremely lucky to be alive", he spoke to her, although her eyes were closed as she lay back weakly against the pillows of the bed. "I will need to clean the wound before I can attempt to close it. I warn you now...this will sting".

From a hidden inner pocket of his robes Snape pulled out a glass vial of clear liquid that turned slightly indigo when it hit the light. Living such a life as he, Snape was always sure to carry the necessary healing equipment. He unstoppered the vial with a tiny pop, but hesitated momentarily, a shadow of thought crossing his brow. Holding the vial in one hand and his wand in the other he muttered a spell to bring down the defences he had placed on the room.

His hand remained completely stable as it hovered over Hermione's wound and dribbled the potion onto the gouged skin, where it hissed and fizzed horribly. A shriek filled the air, so loud and so full of pain that Snape recoiled slightly. Hermione's eyes rolled back inside her head and her skin had turned a dull shade of grey. The scream still hovered in the air as she passed out from the pain.

Once again, Snape took out his wand, muttering to replace back the wards he had temporarily dropped; Bellatrix would have heard the scream and Snape knew that it would keep her satisfied for a while longer. Turning his attention back to the wound he began a low chant, the tip of his wand suspended over the gash, the skin's edges knitting back together into a thing white line. '_Vulnera Sanentur. Vulnera Sanentur_'. Snape's low voice filled the room even though he spoke just above a whisper.

Replacing his students shirt back over her body Snape moved away. There was so much he needed to say, to explain. But could he? Could he really bring himself to let go of his deepest secret to the girl? He would have to, he mused, so that she would trust him. Truly trust him that is. But if he told her, if he told her what he had kept locked up under walls and barriers, locks and keys, for all of these years, then he could never trust _her_.

Snape replaced the empty vial back into his robes. Despite the steady flow of consciousness running through his mind his face remained expressionless and he stood as still as carved polished stone. But his eyes gave him away, showing the torment that raged inside of him. He had to decide whether he could ever trust someone again, someone who he didn't happen to like very much, to save their life, their friend's lives. But it wouldn't save his, would it? No, in fact, it would only endanger his so much more.

Snape ran a hand through his hair. The time had come to choose a side. Not just to run between two masters like a man on a puppet. Whichever side won the battle that was brewing, Snape could simply say he was on it, either as the Dark Lord's faithful minion, or Albus Dumbledore's trusty double spy. But now, he had to choose. He could no longer sit back and passively let the story unfold around him; now he had to act: to hand the girl over, or to help her? To leave her to a certain death, but not before agonizing torture, or to keep her safe?

The question was not so much about the girl herself, Snape thought, no, she merely represented an idea, a side. A side which he had to choose.

Hermione stirred and her eyes moved beneath the translucent skin of her eye lids.

A side we he had to choose _now_.


	3. Chapter 3

Snape's heavy black robes flowed behind him as he rounded the corner to find himself in a large hall. The ceiling was high and vaulted and the entire room was panelled in a dark mahogany, oozing luxury and decadence but also seeming to absorb any light that fell through the large windows, so that the room was cast in a murky darkness. Snape did not pause to take in his surroundings, he had seen them many times before.

A long polished table stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by high back chairs, each with a an intricate carving in their backs. Upon closer inspection one would see that the carvings were of a twisted mass of wooden snakes, writhing over one another, tongues flickering from their mouths. The table was bare of any decorations or place settings and the chairs were all empty, bar one.

Bellatrix Lestrange sat at the far end of the room. She was slouched in her seat slightly, but looked tense, like a cat about to pounce. She eyed Snape with small black eyes as he entered the room, but otherwise remained utterly still. Snape stopped at the head of the table and their gaze found one another. Neither spoke but a small smile crept across Bellatrix's face.

With deliberate slowness, Bellatrix took up her wand and pulled up the sleeves of her robe to reveal her small white forearm. Taking her wand she pressed its tip against her skin, directly onto the ugly tattoo branded onto her skin, her eyes never once leaving Snape.

Snape immediately felt a deep burning in his arm, like an itch that was impossible to get to. There was a soft whistling noise in the air and small 'thwumps' all around the hall, inky black tendrils of smoke forming into dark bodies until twelve more people occupied the room, each with glittering silver masks hiding their faces.

All were silent and no one made any move to sit down. At a sound behind them, all of the death eaters turned to a door that had just been opened in the side of the hall. In walked a tall something, something that could not be described as a man. He was tall and thin, and so pale his skin was almost translucent, blue veins flowing underneath his bald scalp and across his bare arms and legs. His nose was merely two slits in the middle of his face, beneath two small completely black eyes. When he opened his mouth to speak, his teeth were black and twisted, hewn into his mouth like strange rocks on a hillside.

The death-eaters all bowed low to the ground. The man smiled widely, lifting his arms up. "Rise my loyal followers", he spoke in a quiet but hissing voice. "Sit", he gestured to the table and the black-clad figures filled the seats.

Finally he sat down at the head of the table, lounging back easily in the grand chair, whilst the others at the table sat stiff and nervous in their seats. "What news?" he turned to face Bellatrix who leaned forward eagerly. "We have caught the girl, my Lord", Bella sang, her voice nearly squeaking with excitement.

The man at the head of the table smiled again, the motion twisting his face into an even more hideous expression. "And where is she now Bella?", he asked, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Severus has been having some fun with her", she said, speaking the word 'fun' forcefully. All heads at the table twisted to face Snape, their identities still masked, but Snape knew who each and every one of them was anyway. He said nothing, but inclined his head slightly towards the man at the head of the table, a confirmation.

A surprising noise filled the room, a callous laugh, short and biting. "Is that so, Severus?" he asked.

"Yes, my Lord", said Snape.

"Brilliant, brilliant!", he laughed again.

"So can I gut her now?", Bella leaned forward even further, almost pleading.

There was silence around the table for a moment before the man's gaze fixed firmly on Snape, seemingly ignoring Bella's plea. He appeared to be sizing Snape up and his stare seemed to be looking _into_ Snape, rather than at him. Finally he seemed satisfied and turned back to the table.

"I believe that we can use this to our advantage", he spoke quietly and thoughtfully. "Of course, crushing the boy's moral is always fun, and what better way to do that than to murder his best friend", he laughed and the figures around the table followed suit, albeit sounding slightly false.

"But no", he laced his fingers under his chin, "I think we _use_ her. _Spy_ on the boy. _Sapiunt Ligaveris_".

Snape's stomach twisted. He had been afraid of this.

"Severus, I understand that the girl has already been fully..._prepped_ by you?"

Snape hesitated for a moment before replying. "Yes, my Lord".

"Well then, go and fetch her and we will begin".

* * *

><p>Hermione's eyes fluttered open and a wave of panic swept through her when she could not place her surroundings. An even bigger wave passed through when she <em>did<em> place her surrounding. She was still here, still locked up, awaiting death...or worse.

Where was Snape?

She eased herself up against the pillows, scanning the room. She was alone. Her mind flashed back. Snape. He had asked her to trust him. And then pain. Blinding, white hot pain like she had never felt before. She must have passed out she thought to herself. Drawing up her shirt she peeked at the skin beneath and gasped when she saw nothing but a thin white line where her wound had previously been, although she was still caked in dry blood and mud from the forest where she had lain how long ago now?

She swung her legs to the floor, and silently crept over to the door, checking around her once more. She pulled on the door knob but it didn't move. Twisting it until it rattled side to side Hermione tried desperately for it to move but it remained locked and steady. She chin shook but she told herself not to cry. She would _never_ cry because of them.

Turning her back to the door she began to scan the room, brushing her fingers over every surface, trying to find a hidden door, a secret catch, but her fingers found merely cold stone and hard wood. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, trying to cling onto a picture of Harry and Ron in her mind, to draw strength from it.

Suddenly there was a noise from behind her. She whirled around to see Snape standing in the door way, casting a striking silhouette against the light that flooded in from behind him. He moved towards her, in a way Hermione had never seen him move. He was always so graceful and seemingly languid, moving at his own pace, but now he seemed urgent, and as he moved closer she could see something in his eyes she had never seen before either. Fear.

With a flick of his wrist the door closed behind him. "Do you remember what I told you, what I asked you?", he spoke quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"Professor, I-" Hermione began but was cut off.

"Do you remember?" he pressed.

"To trust you", Hermione whispered.

"The time has come where already that trust must put to the test", Snape faltered. "I-, I-", he tried to speak but the words halted.

"I cannot explain, not now, but you _must_ trust". His eyes were burning with desperation as lunged towards Hermione, pinning her to the wall. Hermione screamed and tried to struggle from underneath him but it was hopeless.

She suddenly went into overdrive though as Snape's hand moved towards the fastening of her jeans and began to loosen them from around her waist. Hermione's legs and arms thrashed, but Snape only shifted his grip so that her legs were pinned under his. He held both of her wrists in one hand, his thumbs digging into her flesh.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he kept repeating but continued to pull down Hermione's jeans until they fell to a heap on the floor. He fiddled with the belt on his trousers until they too felt away.

Hermione had stopped screaming, it was as if her whole body had been paralyzed by fear. She could hear Snape mumbling something, 'sorry, sorry' over and over again, but she blocked out the sound. Her mind was in a state of shock and she shut her eyes. Why was this happening? This was her professor, he was supposed to protect her. He had asked for her trust, and she had given it freely. And now, now...

His fingers were tugging at the top of her knickers, easing down her underwear. Hermione groaned, her stomach churning. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying desperately to hold onto the picture of her best friends in her mind, but no matter how hard she tried the picture splintered and fell away.

Hermione suddenly felt weightless as her feet left the floor. Immediately her eyes snapped open to find herself looking into the cold lifeless ones of Severus Snape. She had not noticed him reach an arm around her back which was now lifting her, pinning her against the wall and him.

"You must trust" he whispered to her as he pushed apart her legs. Hermione shuddered along the length of her whole body; even Snape could feel it, a ripple as if the life was leaving her body. But Snape couldn't stop now, for both of their sakes.

With a push he entered her, still lifting and pinning her limb body against the wall. At first, Snape thought that she might have passed out, but when he looked at her again he saw that her eyes were open, wide and glassy. Snape tried to force out the memories of others who looked like that. Frank and Alice Longbottom came to the forefront of his mind, _their_ minds forever stolen from them. Snape turned away from her glazed expressionless face, trying to block everything from his mind. With a grunt he finished inside of her, almost immediately pulling away.

"Can you stand?" he spoke quietly, fearing silence from the girl. Instead she nodded and Snape withdrew his arm from her and hurriedly pulled up his trousers and buckled his belt. "We must go, now", he said, urgency filling his voice as he eyed the door behind him. At first, Hermione seemed not to comprehend, her eyes fixed on a point on the floor, but then she reached down a shaky hand and pulled up her jeans.

Snape stepped close again, feeling sick to his stomach as his presence caused Hermione to shrink away from him, refusing to look at him, fear and hatred radiating off her body. "Whatever I say, or do now, you must not listen. I implore you to listen to what I say. I will explain, I promise that to you, but right now time is against us. We must go. _Now_".

Snape opened up the door of the room with a flick of his wrist so that it let out a large bang as it hit the wall behind. Snape had only been five minutes tops, but the Dark Lord was a suspicious creature.

Hermione still had not moved from where she cowered against the very same wall that Snape had not minutes ago pinned her up against and -, and -, Snape thought he might be sick. But there was no time for that. "I am sorry" he murmured once more, before taking hold of Hermione's arm and pulling her through the door and along the hallway with him.

Without pausing, Snape tightened his grip on the girl, and pushed his face back into a hard scowl. Rounding the corner into the hall once more he turned to face the man at the head of the table, giving a quick shallow bow. The venom bit in his voice as he brought the girl forward and pushed her roughly onto the floor, wiping his hands on the front of his robes.

"I am sorry for the delay, my Lord. The little mudblood does not obey her superior's orders", Snape spat.

Silently, the man arose from his chair, gliding to stand over Hermione where she lay crumpled on the cold floor. He stretched his fingers, rolling back his wrists, as if he would love nothing more than to place his cold white fingers around her neck and squeeze the life from her. He bent down, rocking over his knees and placed a long finger under her chin to push it up to look at him.

His touch seemed to awaken something inside Hermione, and she finally saw who stood before her. The man they had been hunting horcruxes for, the man that killed Harry's parents, the man that was destroying the wizarding world. Voldemort. Every fibre of her body ached to be away from the pure evil she felt emanating from the man and she flinched away from his touch as if it were poisonous. When he spoke, Hermione felt like she might simply crumble to ash, right there on the floor.

"I hear that your potions master has given you a good seeing to", he smiled. "You must thank your Professor".

Hermione groaned, trying to roll her body away. Voldemort straightened up. "I said, thank. Your. Professor" he spoke, danger infusing every sound that fell from his mouth.

A wand appeared in his hand from nowhere, pointed straight at Hermione.

"_Crucio_"

Hermione wanted to scream, to run, to tear the flesh and muscles from her skeleton if only to stop the agonising pain coursing through every single cell of her. Her teeth clenched together and her eyes rolled back into her skull. She could not think, or breathe. The pain consumed her. And then suddenly it was gone.

"Say, 'thank you Professor Snape", Voldemort hissed, flexing his wrist and pointing his wand at her again.

"Thank you. Professor Snape", Hermione managed to finally to say, although it was barely above a whisper. Snape stood motionless, eyeing her with cold eyes while the rest of the death eaters laughed, some slamming their hands against the table.

With a flick of his hand Voldemort silenced them. "Wormtail" he called.

From the dark corner at one side of the room crept a hunched man, his hair sparse and greasy, hanging in lanky tendrils around him. His face was large and bloated and his eyes bulbous. He shuffled forward to where Hermione lay quivering on the floor. Taking out a crooked wand he pointed it at her, so that she rose from the floor like a limp rag doll, hovering only inches from the ground but seemingly unable to move. Wormtail grinned.

"Severus, if you please", Voldemort gestured to the space in front of Hermione which Snape quickly filled. It looked like some kind of perverse marriage ceremony with Hermione and Snape facing one another and Voldemort standing smiling between the two.

"First, the blood exchange", Voldemort called. Wormtail again stepped forward, this time brandishing a thin silver knife. Snape lazily held out his hand, not flinching when the blade was drawn across his skin, blood forming and pooling from the cut. Next he moved to Hermione, taking her hand in his dirt encrusted one, long yellow nails digging into her flesh. Once again he drew the knife over her limp hand. Snape moved forward and took her hand in his own cut one. Voldemort smiled widely. "Brilliant, brilliant", he spoke gleefully. "The seed and the blood are bound!" he called loudly across the hall, stepping forward and Wormtail sunk back.

"Sapiunt Ligaveris", he hissed, his wand making a strange movement back and forth between the couple. "Sapiunt Ligaveris".

Although no physical change appeared, Voldemort finally stepped back, eyeing the pair in front of him as if surveying his work. He smiled and clasped both hands together at his chest. "Oh this will be fun, fun indeed", he said gleefully.

"Take the girl back to the school Severus", he spoke, "no one must know of this. She must deceive her friends. Potter _cannot_ know". His eyes flashed dangerously.

"Yes, my Lord", Snape said, bowing again.

Voldemort grinned and then disappeared into an inky cloud of black smoke. The other death-eaters followed until only Snape and another masked man remained in the hall. Wormtail's spell was broken without his continuing presence and Hermione had fallen back to the floor, curling herself into a foetal position. Neither man looked at her.

The remaining man drew back his hood to reveal his long blonde, unkempt hair. "Lucius", Snape acknowledged, his voice expressionless. With a flick of Lucius's wand the mask disappeared from his face and he walked over to Snape.

"I fear-, I fear that Draco is suffering", Lucius said, his voice low even though no one else was in the hall. "You will look over him still?". His expression was full of concern, almost devastated as he eyed Snape who nodded. "Yes Lucius, I stand by the pledge that I made to Narcissa'.

"Good, good", Lucius looked distracted, his words trailing off. Suddenly his full attention was back on Snape, the look of concern all but gone from his face, replaced with its characteristic look of derision.

"What are your intentions with the girl?"

"I will follow the Dark Lord's wishes as best as I can", Snape replied, his voice devoid of all emotion.

"Yes but Severus, you can easily bend her to your will now. Have a little fun", he smiled wickedly. Snape frowned.

"Thanks to Fenrir and Bella's little slumber party with her, and my, attentions, shall we say, I fear that she is near breaking point. The girl is resilient, but there is only so much a mind may take. It must not be irreversibly damaged if the Dark Lord's work is to be carried out'", Snape said lazily, almost nonchalantly.

Lucius finally turned his beady gaze to the floor and Snape's eyes followed.

"For a mudblood she's not half bad", Lucius spoke, eying Hermione's shivering form. "What would you say if I borrowed her for a quick fuck? Narcissa's pleading is becoming very predictable now, she's no fun to overpower any more", he moaned.

Snape shook his head. "She is too fragile right now, my old friend and besides, I have yet to...fully explore her yet".

Lucius laughed. "Ah I see, won't let the other kids play until you've had first go is it Severus?"

"Something like that" Snape said, walking around to Hermione. Her eyes had glassed over again and her mouth moved quickly, as if she were muttering to herself but no sound left her mouth. "Come", he ordered her, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the floor. Her legs sagged slightly but she remained standing. Her head was bowed low, eyes fixated on the floor.

"Lucius", Snape inclined his head, making his way over to the fireplace.

"Severus" acknowledged Lucius in reply, watching as he half-dragged Hermione into the large space beneath the chimney breast.

Snape's free hand reached into a small terra-cotta pot fixed to the side of the wall, his hand coming away clenching a fist-full of fine grey floo power.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry".


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: **As explained at the end of this Chapter, the old Chapter 4 has been replaced. _

_A big thank you to Shorty 653, xSeverusCrookshanksx, Russian Flower, liidg, ellebell6, WannabeWolfe and sjrodgers 108 for their kind reviews and motivation! Hope you enjoy this next chapter..._

* * *

><p>Hermione stumbled out of the fireplace, pushing herself away from Snape as forcefully as she could. His arms still hovered in the air from where he had tried to steady her on their landing.<p>

"Miss Granger -" he began, his voice measured.

"Don't you dare!", she cut him off, spinning around to face him. "Don't come any closer!", she warned as Snape made a move to approach her. The emotion that was plain to see on her face stopped Snape momentarily, but after a short pause he moved forward again.

"I said don't come any closer!" Hermione yelled at him, tears starting to fall down her face. At Snape's slow advance, she tried desperately to back away from him, until her buttocks hit a solid object which caused her to stop sharp. Panic filled her eyes as she flattened her palms against whatever it was behind her, trying to twist her head to take stock of her surrounding, but feeling utterly panicked to let him out of her sight for even a brief moment.

She was there, in that room again, left trapped between a wall and him. She could not escape, not do anything.

Still Snape moved forward. His wand was away and he made clear to show her that he was unarmed by turning his palms towards her. Finally he stood no more than an arms length away from where she cowered like a frightened animal against a high wooden bookshelf. "Miss Granger, ple-".

"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!". She was screaming now, almost hysterical as she tried in vain to push herself backwards further, as if the smooth mahogany would somehow give way and absorb her into it. With no warning though she changed course, spotting an opportunity at escape and launched herself at the small gap between herself and Snape. His arm immediately sprung out and caught her around the waist, pulling her sharply backwards.

Although she had been beaten, tortured and raped, Hermione felt her strength come back, adrenalin coursing through her muscles like a dagger. She twisted and struggled in his grasp, her hands trying to push away his arm from where he held her in an iron grip. With no use, she tried to hit out at him, although her back was to him and her limbs flailed madly in their hysteria and panic.

Snape's free arm was suddenly around her, catching hold of both of her wrists and stopping her repeated attempts at attack. Hermione groaned in sheer terror as she felt herself embraced by the unmoving arms of the monster but still she tried to struggle against him. Struggle was better that nothing.

"Miss Granger, if your actions continue in this way you will end up hurting both of us", Snape warned, his voice low and dangerous. At first it had seemed as though Hermione had listened, and she became still momentarily, before aiming a sharp bite at his hand. Snape saw it coming and moved his grip lower so that she could not reach him, but his patience finally seemed to snap.

"I warned you", he growled, and started to drag her over to the other side of the room. Yanking open an iron clad door he pulled her into what looked like a small alcove, which actually widened at one end and turned into a small room with large black granite slabs running along its length. Gripping her wrists in one of his hands, he rapidly began to search in a large chest for something. His fingers finally closed around a small glass vial, filled with a clear liquid.

He unstoppered it with his free hand, bringing it to Hermione's lips, but she squeezed them tightly shut, thrashing her head from side to side. If he let go of her arms to force the potion down her throat, she would surely try something stupid and end up hurting herself, Snape thought to himself.

"Open your mouth", he commanded her, but her lips remained firmly locked, and she had squeezed her eyes together for good measure too. "I said, open!", he shouted at her, unused to being disobeyed, but still he received no compliance. Snape snarled, slamming down the vial on the counter so that the liquid inside sloshed around, and gripped Hermione's jaw with one hand, his long fingers pressing hard into her cheeks. Hermione whimpered in pain but firmly clenched her teeth. She knew pain now. She knew that it was not merely physical, no, _that_ she could endure now. They had tortured her, but she had kept her information secretly guarded, and knowing that she _could_ do it, gave her the strength to resist the pain now. He was trying to poison her, she knew it. That, or he was going to feed her veritaserum, and she would never be able to stop the spill of secrets from her lips them. If Voldemort found out what they were hunting, the war would be lost before it had even properly begun.

She could feel Snape's fingers loosening their grip, and she gave herself the satisfaction of knowing that she had beaten him at his own tortuous game. In a split second though he had moved his hand away, driving it directly into her bruised abdomen. She could not help it as her mouth flew open, and Snape took the opportunity to pour the liquid down her throat, slamming the empty vial back down onto a work surface and pulling her out of the strange potions room.

This is it, Hermione thought. Cho had told her what veritaserum felt like, as if all her guarded secrets merely felt irrelevant and ready to tumble off her tongue at the slightest provocation. Hermione tried to build up even higher walls around her secrets, the fight gone from her body as she concentrated purely on focusing her strength to ward her mind. But her walls did not break, did not even waver slightly. Perhaps this wasn't a truth potion after all.

Suddenly Hermione felt tiredness clamp down on her like an iron blanket. The adrenalin that had just minutes ago coursed through her body was leaving her system and she felt herself weaken and her muscles become stiff and heavy with fatigue. She could feel her eyes dropping, and was vaguely aware of being led somewhere. Her eyes shut and she felt a dark shadow of blackness come over her.

* * *

><p>"Come in Severus", Dumbledore called from behind the thick wooden door to his office, before Snape had even had a chance to reach it.<p>

With a resounding bang the door was thrown against the wall and the tall dark form of Severus Snape stalked in. His hair was tussled and sticking out in strange directions, as if if he had been constantly running his fingers through it and his black eyes seemed agonised. His skin was even paler than normal and as he slumped into the chair before Dumbledore's desk he let his head fall into his hands.

"Severus, my dear boy, what is-"

"Don't!" Snape spat out, his eyes flashing angrily towards the man in front of his before letting his head rest back into his hands. "Don't call me that".

Dumbledore nodded briefly and eyed Snape from behind his half-moon glasses, although his blue eyes remained kind and patient. After a short while Snape spoke, his words muffled from where he spoke into his hands.

"I - I was called tonight..." he began.

"I am aware Severus. Am I to take it that we have reason to fear some impending plan of the Dark Lord?" asked Dumbledore, his voice betraying nothing.

Snape leaned back in his chair and ran his long fingers through his hair.

"Albus, he made me - he made me...violate, a young woman...a child"

Dumbledore frowned slightly and stroked his long beard. "Severus, this is not the first time though. This is nothing new".

Immediately Snape launched forward off the chair, his fists landing heavily on the wooden desk and his eyes glaring dangerously into Dumbledore's, although the older man did not flinch.

"That is _not_ the point" Snape hissed vehemently, before a tired shadow passed over his face and he turned away. "It was one of our own. One of the students".

"I see", said Dumbledore who suddenly looked like the old man he truly was. He took off his glasses and rubbed them in the folds of his purple robes before placing them back on his long nose. "The boundaries show no trace of having been breached. Am I therefore to assume that the student that you speak of has not yet returned to Hogwarts for the new school term?"

Snape's voice faltered slightly. "Yes Albus, that is correct".

There was a short silence before Dumbledore quietly asked Snape the question he had been dreading. "And where is Miss Granger now?"

"I- I did not know what to do", said Snape, resting heavily on the stone wall that allowed him to look out at the moonlit school grounds. "I brought her back here"

"And Harry?"

"They caught the girl alone. Potter and Weasley were no where to be seen" said Snape, disgust all too evident on his face. Dumbledore was silent for a short while, seemingly lost in thought before he turned his blue eyes towards Snape.

"Is she hurt?"

Snape sighed. "She was when I arrived, but I saw to it that she was healed, although -"

"Yes Severus," Dumbledore gently probed when the words ran dry from Snape's voice.

"I fear the emotional trauma of her ordeal may have dire consequences. One does not need to be physically weakened to be broken. I fear that she may be a danger to herself at the current time", Snape explained as he rested his forearm onto the wall above him and rested his forehead onto it.

"I am sure there is nothing more you could have done", the older man gently tried to comfort but Snape only groaned.

"You do not understand old man" said Snape, finally turning around to face him. "The Dark Lord- there was a reason he did not kill her. He wants Potter and he wants him now. He becomes more restless the longer the search goes on".

"And he believes that the girl will help him to find Potter?" Snape nodded. "But how?"

"Sapiunt Ligaveris"

"Oh my", Dumbledore muttered quietly to himself. "So we must let her go and then welcome her back?"

"Yes Albus, that is correct"

Suddenly the door was thrown open once again and in the doorway stood a woman whose emerald green robes swished around her feet as she walked forward. Snape said nothing but Dumbledore gave a small smile to the woman as she moved angrily forwards, her expression furious.

"Minerva, how nice of you to join us"

"What is the meaning of this Albus?" Minerva McGonagall gestured wildly around her. "Explain. Now".

"You have been eavesdropping woman?", Snape snarled at her but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence both Snape and McGonagall who looked ready to launch some insult at the black-clad man before her.

"How much did you hear Minerva?" said Dumbledore.

"Enough", said McGonagall and the anger seemed to disappear from her face to be replaced with a grave look of concern.

"The spell...Sapiunt Ligaveris, I have heard of it before although I profess to be no expert", she twisted in her seat to face Snape. "If we do not let her go, she will be safe yes?" Snape said nothing but Dumbledore answered for him.

"If we do not let her go then the Dark Lord will suspect something. If we do not let her go, then Severus will die. The war will be lost".

McGonogall reached up and took her black pointed witches hat from her head and smoothed down her already perfect bun. "And if we let her go and she does not come back?"

"Then she will die", Snape finally spoke, his voice gravely.

McGonogall's had flew to cover her mouth. "Albus, we cannot allow this. Surely there is something that we can do?"

"I am afraid not. But Minerva, surely you realise there is no other way? If we do not let her go, then our best spy is gone and we will surely loose the war. And if we let her go, then if Severus is able to make contact with her again, then the Dark Lord will know of Harry's whereabout and the war will still be lost". Dumbledore signed. "Miss Granger is sadly colla-"

McGonogall launched from her seat, her expression flushed. "DON'T YOU DARE. Don't you dare call my best student collateral damage Albus" she shrieked.

The room was silent and neither of its three occupants could say anything more. Finally Dumbledore spoke. "The choice is yours Severus. I trust your judgement. Do what you think is best".

Snape nodded, unable to say anything. With Dumbledore eyeing him with sad and pitiful eyes, and McGonagall glaring at him with a venom reserved for the worst of her enemies, Snape pulled open the door to the office and left.

* * *

><p>Hermione's eyes opened heavily. The world before her was blurry and she raised the heel of her palm to rub away the sleep from her eyes. For a couple of seconds she was in a blissful ignorance of her surroundings but then they hit her with the force of a brick wall.<p>

Immediately Hermione pushed herself upwards but felt her legs buckle underneath her and her head swim uneasily. With a muffled thud her knees hit the cold stone floor and she felt a sharp stab of pain travel up her femur and into her gut.

"Shit", she groaned to herself, desperately trying to stop her head from spinning so that she could make sure that she was alone. Finally it did so, and she managed to pull herself off the floor with what felt like a great effort and stumble back onto the sofa.

Hermione looked around her. She was in what looked like a modest sized reception room. The walls and floors were both stone but the room was still warm from a fire that was down to its last glowing embers in the hearth. Hermione could see no windows but realised that even if there had been, they would have been blocked by the huge bookshelves which ran the length three of the walls, filled with large tomes and small volumes, old and new, red, blue, green, black. It was then that she recognised the familiar scent of old leather and parchment.

Around the mantle was arranged a large sofa, on which Hermione now sat, and an old high backed armchair. There was a book open on one of its arms, its spine facing up. Curiosity overcame her and with deliberate slowness she rose and walked over. The book was small and obviously very old and as she peered down to try and read the faded silver writing across its spine a small pop of the fire startled her and she jumped backwards.

Suddenly Hermione felt too exposed standing in the middle of the open space. Her eyes quickly scanned the room again, checking for any sign of life. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw none, but felt her breaching hitch in her throat as her eyes wandered over the iron clad door towards one side of the room. The potions lab.

She could not tell you how she knew for certain, but certain she was, that these were Severus Snape's quarters. Hermione shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, suddenly feeling cold. Snape wasn't there, but Hermione dreaded his return. What would she say to him? Could she say anything? Thinking about him caused a rush of panic and nausea, and for a moment Hermione though that she might vomit. Last week she would have trusted her potions master with her life, now she could not even imagine trusting him with her homework.

The logical part of her brain sparked to life as she realised though that if these were indeed Snape's quarters, that either he lived in a dungeon whilst he was not at the castle, or they were, in fact, at Hogwarts. And that meant that she was somehow safe. Surely Snape could not keep her locked down here like some animal, some slave, forever? _Why_ he had brought her here?

Hermione pondered over the question for a few moments but could find no answer. No more so because part of her brain was shouting at her that now was her only chance at escape. Hermione could see another four doors leading away from the room than the one that led to the potions room. The others seemed lighter except for one which was also iron clad and which had what looked like an ordinary lock at one side. The exit.

Ignoring the rumble of her belly when she thought to herself that she must be somewhere near to the kitchens, her being in the dungeons and all, she made her way over to the door. Touching nothing she inspected the lock closely. It seemed normal enough, but too decidedly muggle. Gently Hermione blew a puff of breath at it, and staggered backwards in surprise when two rows of small gleaming metal teeth formed along its ridge. Hermione gulped. How was she supposed to leave?

Reaching into her back pocket she again felt lost to find her fingers missing the smooth rosewood of her wand. She grimaced but turned her attention back the door.

"Damn it!" she yelled as her bruised knees bumped into a low wooden table as she moved forward to focus on the door. Looking down she jumped slightly when she saw a small paper parcel tied with string sat on the table. What made her jump was not the parcel itself though, but the fact that her name was written on there in the familiar calligraphy of none other than Snape himself.

Hermione gulped wondering whether this was a trap, but seeing as she could see no other alternative, and the parcel was addressed to her after all, she tentatively picked it up.

It was light in her hands and Hermione could hear something rolling inside it as she tilted it to one side. With a pull the string fell away and Hermione deftly pulled back the brown wrapping. A small white box appeared and a piece of parchment fluttered to the floor as it was revealed. Hermione bent down and picked it up, opening it slowly, afraid for what she might find.

The paper was thick and her hands trembled slightly as she once more recognised the script of her potions master, looping across the page in a thin but elegant hand. Taking a deep breath she started to read.

_Miss Granger,_

_The written prose offers no substitute for the spoken word. As such, the information I profess to offer you here is as follows:_

_Please find your wand in the enclosed package. Also find another instrument in the aforementioned package. It will lead you._

_The door to this room is unlocked. I trust you will have no problem navigating the hallways. Apparation will be possible past the front gates and this is something which I strongly advise you to complete immediately once past the castle wards._

_There will come a time when only one solution will suffice. I am sure it can be found by yourself, but whether you wish to accept it is for your judgement alone._

_S.T. Snape_

Hermione's brows knitted and she read through the parchment again. Lead where? She thought to herself. And what solution? What time?

Hermione had half a mind to rip up the parchment and throw it into the dying fire, but she refrained, and relaxed her grip from where she twisted the paper, ready to tear it in half. Sighing, she tucked it into her jean pocket instead.

Pulling open the small box in her hand, she could not help as a small smile appeared on her face as she felt her wand back beneath her fingers. It felt warm to the touch and the warmth seemed to spread through her fingers and run along her arms to hug at her chest. It was as if a piece of her that had been missing had been returned.

Next Hermione pulled out a silvery-black oblong tube. Along its side were intricate carvings and strange knobs. Hermione looked at the thing which sat snuggly in her hand. She had never seen, nor heard of any such a device. It was heavy in her hands as she turned it over. Towards the top there was a catch and Hermione pressed down on it. Immediately the top flipped open, to reveal what looked like an ordinary cigarette lighter. She scoffed to herself. How did Snape think that this would lead her anywhere? _Lead me, what, to an early grave from lung cancer?_ _How thoughtful,_ she hissed sarcastically to herself. Taking her hand off the catch she pushed it deep into another jean pocket.

Could it be a trap? She thought to herself once again as she extended her hand cautiously towards the door. Surely the door could not simply be unlocked. Remembering the teeth which had formed around the lock Hermione pulled her hand away but shook herself. This is the way out, to safety, she repeated in her head. Making up her mind Hermione placed her hand onto the door handle and pulled, in one quick go. The door creaked open and nothing more happened. She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped forward into the darkened stone passageway, candles flickering to life as she advanced forward.

The sight of another door in front of her made her quicken her pace. As she reached it, she felt her magic twitch as she passed through some hidden enchantment. With a quickening heart rate she pushed open the door to find herself in the potions storeroom. Nothing had changed in the small space from her last visit here in sixth year, but something felt different. She felt different. Too much had changed now.

Checking around the corner of the room she found that the classroom was empty, although her stomach still flipped at the sight of the raised platform on which Snape usually peered down at his in classes.

Wrenching her eyes away from the ghost of Snape which lingered in her mind, she hurried to the classroom door and stepped out. At that moment a fourth year Slytherin walked past and Hermione immediately pulled back against the wall. She hadn't thought of other students noticing her, recognising her. Her eyes were wide and startled as she watched the Slytherin walk away, having paid no heed to her whatsoever.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief and carried on up the corridor and to the stairs, encountering no one on her way. At the top she paused and stole a glance around the corner. About two dozen students were milling around the entrance hall, chatting together in groups of two or three, slowly migrating into the grand hall when a final member would join them. Hermione realised that it was dinner time, and her thoughts were confirmed when her nose picked up on the glorious scent that filled the room, making her famished stomach rumble. She placed a hand across it, looking down to tell it to shut up in case anyone had heard her.

Looking back up she stopped breathing when she noticed Neville Longbottom walking nervously towards her. He looked back over his shoulder when someone called his name. "Have to drop this off to Professor Snape's office", he called back, waving a piece of parchment at them. He was only centimetres away from Hermione and as he reached the top step his eyes locked with Hermione.

"Neville", Hermione whispered, trying desperately to think of a way to explain herself, when Neville looked away again and began to make his way down the twisting staircase. "Neville?" Hermione called slightly louder, confused. Still he did not turn around. "Neville, it's me, Hermione" she said, running down the stairs to catch up with him and placing a hand on his shoulder. But Neville continued on his way, silently muttering encouragement to himself at the thought of facing the formidable professor.

With a start Hermione remembered the enchantment she had passed through. It wasn't to keep people out, she thought to herself, it was a disillusionment charm. But why? Why would Snape want to keep me from being seen? But she was too pre-occupied to answer her own question, and made her way back to the top of the stairs, walking unnoticed past her fellow students and silently slipping out of the entrance to the castle.

The grounds were dark although there were stars in the sky and the moon was new and bright. As the front gates grew closer Hermione suddenly realised that she had no where to go, no way of finding Harry and Ron again. The thought seemed to crumble all her strength away and she felt her lip tremble at the thought of being so impossibly alone.

Instinctively Hermione went to reach for her wand but found the silver cigarette lighter. Pulling it out Hermione flicked open the catch again. Somehow she knew though that this thing was important. _It will lead you_ he had said.

With a deft movement of her thumb, she pushed down on the catch, expecting to see the familiar orange flame, but instead a small round ball of white light appeared, bobbing like a bubble before finally detaching itself and hovering in the air before Hermione. Instinctively Hermione reached out to touch it, but her fingers met nothing solid, only a comforting warmth and a strange feeling that everything might be alright after all.

The ball hovered patiently, as if it was waiting for Hermione to explore it adequately, before it started to move towards her. With a gasp it entered Hermione's chest and the feeling and warmth intensified.

Suddenly Hermione knew where to go. It was not a place exactly, but a feeling that wherever she landed, would be right. Placing the instrument back into her pocket she walked forward and opened the front gates. Taking a deep breath she concentrated her mind on no particular place, but with the knowledge and certainty that told her where to go.

A twisting sensation tugged at her core and there was small pop as Hermione apparated into the night.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN**_

_****_**Sorry all for the long hiatus...finals and all! For anyone with a story alert on this story, you may have noticed that the old chapter 4 has been taken down and this new one placed in its stead. I really felt like writing the last one, but it was completely irrelevant to the story and so it is now gone!**

**Please review :) **


	5. Chapter 5

Apart from the crackling of dry leaves underfoot when Hermione landed, the air was still and silent. She shivered when she realised that she was once again back in a forrest, however this time a bright full moon shone down through large gaps in the sparse foliage, the night sky an inky blue, dipped in a thousand stars.

Hermione still gripped the would-be-cigarette-lighter in her palm, so hard in fact that it's grooves had pressed and formed itself around her skin, it's intricate pattern now printed onto her own hand. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She might not trust Snape, nor any thing that he may give her, but something deep down told her than this thing was not evil, that it was truly something for good. Opening her eyes she turned on the spot and walked forward, her free hand pulling out her wand as she went.

At first she thought she had imagined it, a low buzz, an undulating murmur, coming from ahead of her. She pressed forward but stopped again when the noise became louder. Tightening her grip on her wand she drew closer. The noise became sharper and she realised it was actually voices talking. She could not make who they came from though, or what they were saying. Taking a deep breath she moved towards the voices as silently as she could manage, her movements slow and cautious.

"I should have done more" the disembodied voice said, sounding mournful and sad.

"There was nothing you could have done", the second voice said, equally low, equally miserable.

Hermione drew forward even more, pressing herself against a large tree trunk and slowly peering around it's side, not even daring to hope. But hope she did, and founded it was, as before her sat an all too familiar tent and her two best friends in the world. They sat at the entrance to their little traveling home, golden light spilling over their shoulders from it's inside, but their faces to the darkness, eyes to the earth.

Hermione almost called out. The words were on her tongue: "I'm here! I'm okay!", but she refrained, pressing her lips tightly together. What if they didn't want her any more, tainted by the enemy? Hermione was bright enough to know that Voldemort had not just let her go because he had been feeling decidedly altruistic that day. No, he had let her go for a purpose. She just didn't know what it was yet.

Would she be putting them in danger by stepping forward? Maybe, but the pain of turning around was too much to bear. _Where would she go?_ Home? She had no home: her parents were no longer there, no longer even knew that she existed. Hogwarts? That place held no good memories for her anymore, not whilst _he_ was there anyway.

Her body made the decision for her, and like a magnet draw to it's opposite pole she came from behind the tree, a silent shadow slipping forward. She tried to say something but the words got stuck in her throat again. As she moved a twig snapped underfoot and both heads looked up to discover the source of the noise, their eyes narrowing as they tried to make out the murky form before them, then widening when they realised that here stood their Hermione.

Hermione couldn't help it when her eyes filled with tears that this time were pure relief and happiness. Harry and Ron had launched themselves up from where they had sat and Harry, being the closest, had reached her first. He embraced her ferociously, his arms wrapping themselves around her, breathing sighs of relief into her ear. He did not fail to notice though how the girl in his arms froze and remained stiff and cold to his touch. As he pulled away her eyes shone fearfully, tears still glistening on her cheeks. He gave her a questioning look but his gaze was broken when Ron pulled her in for her hug, seemingly not noticing her strange emotions at their reunion.

He clung to her desperately and Harry knew how he was feeling - the same way he felt when he found out that Ginny was still safe, still alive. When Ron finally broke from the hug his cheeks were red, yet he beamed at her, unwilling to move more than a couple of feet away from her, in case he should lose her again.

Hermione smiled at them both and couldn't help letting out a laugh of joy, the fear gone from her eyes.

"What happened? Are you okay? Where have you been?" Ron began to ask, hardly pausing for breathe between his relentless questioning. Harry came to Hermione's rescue though. "Maybe we should have a cup of tea first?" he asked. Hermione threw him a thankful smile and nodded.

"That'd be great" she said and they guided her into the tent. The two boys bustled about, fetching water and mugs, whilst Hermione sat perched at the end of the camper bed she had been sleeping in for the past two months, bar the last couple of days. It was strange how normal everything felt, as if she had just stepped from a dream.

_More like a nightmare_ she thought to herself as Harry pushed a steaming mug into her hands, Ron following quickly behind him with a packet of digestive biscuits, keen not to be outdone. She smiled and thanked them both, sipping at the hot tea slowly. There was silence in the tent, not even the radio which emitted constant amounts of static was on. Ron sighed loudly after a few minutes, as if he couldn't bare to wait any longer to find out what had happened.

Harry quirked at eyebrow at him, imploring him to wait under their friend was ready to talk, but Ron just shrugged and said 'what!?'. Harry sighed and turned to Hermione.

"Maybe we should tell you what happened to us after the snatchers came?" he suggested and Hermione nodded, cradling the mug in her hands.

"Well after you apparated, they got really angry, started shouting at each other, blaming each other that they'd lost one of us" he started. "Ron and I ran ahead but when we looked around to see why they weren't still chasing us we realised you weren't there".

"Yeh and also one of them was super fat, like a proper little piggy, puffing and panti- what!?" Ron exclaimed again as both Hermione and Harry threw him disapproving looks.

"Anyway" continued Harry turning back to Hermione, "we apparated somewhere in Scotland I think. We'd left all of our things behind though, so we waited until we thought it would be okay to go and apparated back to get the tent. They'd left someone guarding it but he'd fallen asleep, so we petrified him, got our things and headed here. We were trying to think of a plan to find you again, but we had no idea where to even start -"

"But then you just appeared...poof!" said Ron, splaying his fingers outwards.

"Perhaps we should have a place, you know, if we ever get split up again then we'd know where to find each other", suggested Harry as a side thought, keen to voice the idea that had been forming in his head ever since Hermione had been lost.

"Mhhmm, I think that's a good idea" said Hermione. "Any ideas?"

"How about that forrest -"

"No - no more forests" Hermione interjected shaking her head.

"Grimwauld Place then?"

"If they have spies inside the Order then they'll probably know about it. You know who might have people watching" Ron said thoughtfully.

There was silence for a moment before Hermione spoke. "The Blue Moon"

"What?" both boys said at the same time.

"It's a place in London, somewhere you can get food in the day and then it turns into a club in the night. Maybe somewhere with plenty of muggles will be better, like hiding in plain sight?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. "The Blue Moon it is then".

Satisfied with their new plan in case the trio should become separated again, all three fell into a comfortable silence once more, and Hermione continued to sip on her tea, being careful to avoid the eyes of the two boys sitting opposite her.

"How did you find us?" Ron blurted out, unable to contain himself anymore "I mean, we have wards up and everything". He looked so confused, his brow creased together and his lips scrunched, that Hermione almost wanted to laugh. Instead she put down her cup and pulled out the cigarette lighter from where she had shoved it into her back pocket.

Harry stood up and took it from Hermione's hand, turning it over in his palm. "I know this", he finally said, "this is Dumbledore's".

"Dumbledore's?" said Hermione and Ron simultaneously. Harry nodded.

"I've seen him with it before. He invented it I think. I'm not too sure what it does, but I think -", he flipped the catch and Hermione waited for the little ball of light to emerge and enter his chest too, but instead a sphere of light shot towards him from the now dull lamp.

"Cool", muttered Ron under this breathe. Harry clicked it again and the sphere shot back and the light flared.

"It's called a deluminator", Harry explained and handed it back to Hermione, "but why would you have it?"

Hermione fiddled nervously with her fingers, clasping and unclasping them. This was it. She would have to tell them, but maybe not everything. She wasn't ready for that yet. She took a deep breath and began to explain to them how she had been hit by a spell and then apparated without them to a forrest where she must have passed out. She told them of how a man covered in hair, taller than any man she had ever seen, bar Hagrid, had come in the dead of night and stollen her away.

"Greyback", whispered Ron. Hermione nodded, shuddered, and continued on with her story. She had woken up in a long hall, which she was sure must have been Malfoy Manor. There Bellatrix had tortured her she explained, and lifted up her sleeve to reveal where the word 'mudblood' still shone brightly on her forearm.

"That fucking bitch" shouted Ron, rocketing to his feet and walking around the tent in angry circles, punching his fist into his hand. "If I ever fucking see her again -"

" - then she'll probably kill you" said Hermione. Ron stopped his pacing and stared at her. There was an uncomfortable silence before Ron half whispered:

"Then why didn't she kill you?"

"Snape".

Now it was Harry's turn to stand up. "That low life bastard! I always knew he was on their side. He must have only saved you to keep up his ruse of fooling Dumbledore".

"Did he hurt you 'Mione?" interjected Ron. Hermione gulped down the lump in her throat, willing herself not to cry. Then shaking her head stiffly she told the biggest lie of her life.

"No, no he didn't" she said softly, with barely enough conviction in her voice to fool even the most naive, yet thankfully, they hadn't appeared to have noticed. "In fact, it was he who gave me this-" she said, holding up the deluminator.

"And that helped you find us?" asked Ron. Hermione nodded.

"I clicked it and this little ball of light appeared and went into my chest, right here" she pointed a finger above her heart. "I apparated. I didn't know where I was going but I knew that wherever I landed you would be there. You and Harry. And I was right. It was right. I must have been able to clear the wards because of it too".

Ron's mouth gaped slightly at the story. Harry sat down heavily on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at it forcefully and letting it go so that it stood out at funny angles.

"I just don't understand. Why would he just let you go like that?" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to understand better.

"There was a spell, you-know-who did a spell" Hermione whispered. "I've never head it before. Sapiunt Ligaveris"

"Well what do you think it means?" Ron asked, scrunching his brow together again.

"No idea, I've never heard of it either. Do you think he knows about the hor-"

"Stop!" shouted Hermione, jumping up and knocking over the tea. Both boys stared at her in surprise.

"Don't, don't say it. We don't know what the spell does. It may be a trap".

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, of course you're right. God, why didn't I think about that before?" he chided himself. The atmosphere was tense and Hermione suddenly realised just how exhausted she was.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll go to sleep soon" she said to her friends. They agreed and as they climbed into bed and turned out the lights she heard Harry whisper in the dark.

"We love you 'Mione"

"I love you guys too" she whispered back, a silent tear escaping it's way down her cheek.

* * *

><p>Hermione was awoken by the chirp of a bird outside the tent, not a completely unpleasant way to start the morning she thought.<p>

Sitting up she put on her boots and ventured outside, leaving the boys to sleep. The air outside was pleasant and warm but she dared not venture beyond the wards, for fear of what was out there. Even standing a mere foot away from the tent she pulled out her wand and looked around nervously.

She performed a quick spell to clean off her clothes, and although they were rid of the blood and mud which had covered them before, it was no substitute for a real shower and she longed to find somewhere where she could just sit and let the hot water pour over her for hours. In truth, she didn't think she could ever feel clean again, not after what had happened.

There was a sound behind her and she felt bad as she let out a sigh of relief that it was Harry. Ron was great and all, but sometimes - a little too much. She couldn't cope with his directness right now. Even if Harry wanted to know something, he was at least subtle about it.

He came and stood beside her, flattening out his hair with his hands and polishing his glasses on his jumper. The bird chirped again and was joined in it's song by numerous other birds hidden in the trees. Hermione kept her hand on her wand though and scanned the forrest, watching for any sudden movement, waiting for a figure clad all in black.

"I know there's something you're not telling us", Harry said in an even voice. Hermione froze, petrified. "That's okay though. I know you'll tell us when you're ready", he said, and put his glasses back onto his nose.

Hermione didn't refute Harry's claim, but nor did she deny it. She just stood with him, taking pleasure in his silent company. No more words had to be said about it.

* * *

><p>After Ron had finally roused himself, or more to the point after Harry had woken him and told him to stop being a 'lazy git', the trio sat down for breakfast. Ron sat so close to Hermione that his leg was practically touching hers, and Hermione couldn't help but freeze stiffly to the contact.<p>

Every nerve ending, every fibre of her body wanted to move away but the weight of guilt kept her rooted in place. This was her best friend and she would trust him with anything, but every touch, accidental or not, brought vivid memories back to the surface. _His_ fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs, _his_ breath on her neck. She shivered and put down her plate, no longer hungry.

Ron was chatting happily in the meantime, his mouth full with food as he talked.

"I've just got a good feeling about today you know", he told Harry and Hermione in between mouthfuls. "We'll find another H-"

"Ron!" Hermione cut in sharply.

"Oh yeh, sorry", Ron mumbled, the tips of his ears turning pink. "Forgot".

Harry sighed and put his hand to his collarbone. The jumper that he wore obscured it, but Hermione knew that underneath it was the horrible necklace that Voldemort had concealed a piece of his soul in. She also knew the horrible weight it was to bare such a burden, - she herself had felt like breaking down in floods of tears after only an hour of wearing it. But Harry was stronger than her - he always had been.

Seeing Hermione watching him he let his hand fall and gave her a sheepish look. It was killing her not to be able to talk about what their next plan of action would be, but she knew that she had been allowed to go back to her friends for her reason, and she was sure it was as a spy, even an unwilling one at that.

"Perhaps it would be better if I left" she said, standing and brushing off the crumbs from her jeans. "I mean, how are you two going to go on searching if I'm with you?"

"But Hermione, I need you", said Ron quickly, "I mean - what I meant to say is that _we_ need you - to um, well you know. You're the brains after all", he tailed off, obviously flustered.

"You underestimate yourself Ronald", said Hermione quietly, wondering whether it would just be better for her to apparate away from them now, save them having to make the choice between her or saving the wizarding world. But where would she go? Harry made the decision for her.

"Hermione we've only just got you back, we're not leaving you". Ron nodded enthusiastically at this too. "The spell that you mentioned, you think that's got something to do with it?"

Hermione thought for a minute and then answered. "I don't see any other reason for it. It must have been something that can be used to spy on you".

"And you've never heard of it before?"

"No, never, not even from any of the advanced spell books at Hogwarts".

"Well if Hermione has never heard of it, then what chance do we have of finding it?" said Ron, kicking at the dirt with his shoe.

"We don't have any other option but to find out what the spell does, and then remove it" said Harry. He began to move purposefully, scratching at his head and making animated gestures with his hands, something he always did when thinking of a plan.

"Is there someone we can ask?" he said.

"Dad might know" said Ron. Harry shook his head though.

"It's too risky. They're probably already watching him, and even if we send him a letter anonymously, they're bound to know it's us, especially if we start asking questions about dark magic".

Harry wished, as he wished every single day, that his godfather Sirius was still here. He was certain to have known. His insides ached with longing for the family that he never had, but he pushed it down and tried to think. They sat in silence for many minutes, contemplating, but everyone that came to mind was either too risky, or unlikely to know what the spell actually meant. Not to mention that logistically, asking for an answer to be sent back to a return address would probably have given the game away for sure if their whereabouts fell into the wrong hands.

"It's no use", Hermione said after a couple of minutes. "You two will just have to go on without me". She couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of dread forming within her chest, but she knew that she had to stay strong for all of them. If they told her to leave, she would leave and not look back.

Suddenly Ron sat up straight. "Hermione, what's your favourite place to be?"

"What?" she said, confused.

"Your favourite place. Where is it?" said Ron excitedly.

"Well I like the common room when the fire's been lit, and the great hall on the first day of term, and my bed at home, and the library, and -"

"Exactly! The library! They're bound to have the answer there" he looked around enlivened. "Right?!"

"It's a good plan Ron, but what library would we go to? We can't go back to Hogwarts, and it's hardly like we can just pop into one on a street corner" said Harry. Ron's face fell.

"You're right", he said, disappointed.

"No wait, Ron may be onto something", said Hermione. "Harry, did you ever go to the British library?" Harry shook his head. "It's one of the biggest libraries in the world" she explained, "my Dad took me there once when I was little".

"That's great Hermione, but was has that got to do with us? It's a muggle library".

"No, you don't understand, it's _not_ just a muggle library" she said, her eyes shining with excitement. "Professor McGonagall once told me that it has a wizarding section, it's just hidden from the muggles, just as Diagon Alley is. If we can get there, then we're sure to find out what the spell means".

"So all we have to do is apparate into central London, walk into the biggest library in the world and find a secret passageway, with a secret code, and then locate a spell book amongst thousands, maybe millions of books, which will tell us what this secret spell means, all the while trying to evade being found by anyone in the wizarding world?"

"Um, yes".

Harry thought for a minute, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose from where they slipped forward. "We've done worse" he said jokingly.

"So that settles it then - we're going to London?" asked Ron. Harry smiled.

"We're going to London".


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione wiped a stray hair off her sweaty forehead and resumed stirring the sticky potion in front of her. It was a sickly green colour and the consistency of mud and that meant only one thing: it was ready.

Ron and Harry huddled nervously around holding onto empty flasks which they handed to her silently. "Do you have the vials?" she asked and Harry nodded, pulling out three from his pocket. Inside each was a single strand of hair plucked from three random passers-by of a small village which they had ventured into on the outskirts of Scotland.

Hermione filled up the first flask with what looked suspiciously like pond scum and then shook out one of the hairs onto her palm. Satisfying herself that it did in fact belong to the person Ron was meant to become (having had an unfortunate incident in the past involving a Slytherin and a cat, she was none too careful nowadays), and tipped it into the potion.

The potion bubbled and frothed and she handed it to Ron who wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Smells like Goblin piss" he said, eying the flask warily.

"Just drink it. Quickly", Hermione chided him, already pulling the hair out of the second flask and handing it to Harry.

It had been Ron's idea in the first place that they use Polyjuice potion and fortunately Hermione had already brewed the potion long before the trio first set out, keeping it stable and useable with a statis charm. Now though, he wondered why he had suggested it, as he felt his own flesh twist and transform painfully into a stranger who had just happened to be walking down the street for groceries last Monday morning.

When the transformations had taken place Harry was a full foot taller than his normal height, and Hermione had developed rather a paunch around the middle, having taken her hair from a rather overweight middle aged woman. The only problem was though that Ron's eyebrows were still a flaming red, rather than matching the chocolate hair on his head.

"Must have been something wrong with the statis charm", muttered Hermione under her breath, and then to Ron: "it'll just have to do".

They changed quickly into fresh clothes and stuffed their old ones, as well as the fold-away cauldron and tent into Hermione's handbag.

"Shall we go through the plan one more time?" said Hermione, anxiously fingering the fake wedding ring on her finger. Ron groaned.

"Hermione we have already been through this fifty thousand times".

"Slight exaggeration" said the now-tall Harry, eyeing Ron with a frown, "but Hermione's right, we should go through it once more".

Ron sighed. "Fiiiine. We'll go in and separate out. I'll be keeping watching by the door..."

"... and I'll be checking the library maps, to see if there's a map to the wizarding section that won't be able to be seen by muggle eyes." said Harry.

"And I'll go to the front desk and ask for the records of Ephidia Dodge. They'll only be in the wizarding section, and if they don't show up on the system then the library staff obviously don't know about it".

They all nodded nervously and joined hands ready to apparate. "Wait!" said Ron. "What if we find the entrance and the wards won't let us in because we're dressed as muggles?"

"I don't know. Hopefully it will be able to recognise our magic. I don't think it really works on some national wizard and witch picture registry anyway" said Hermione looking worried.

"And what do we even do when we reach the wards? We don't know the spell to get in!" continued Ron.

"Well we'll just have to figure that our when we're there" said Hermione exacerbated, grabbing hold of Ron's hand tightly. "Ready?"

"Not really". Hermione glared at Ron. "Fine, yes I'm ready!"

"Harry?"

"Me too"

"Okay then". Hermione focused her mind on London and willed with all her might to be there.

A bird chirped, and had there been someone watching the lake, they would have seen the three people standing holding hands next to it, simply disappear.

* * *

><p>Harry, Ron and Hermione stood close to each other, staring at the colossal red brick building in front of them.<p>

"I'm not sure if this is such a good idea", Ron squirmed. For once, Hermione had to agree. She desperately wanted to find out what spell Voldemort had performed on her, especially since so far there were no visible side-effects. But there was a creeping feeling of doubt that worked its way up from her stomach to her chest. What if Voldemort had figured out this is where she would be? What if Bellatrix was standing and waiting in the shadows. What if someone simply recognised them and turned them in to the Ministry? It was only down the road after all.

Taking a deep breath she steeled herself. _Courage will not, cannot, fail me now_, she thought. "This is our only option" she said, her stomach squirming when she realised that there was another option: for her to leave them and not come back until this awful business was done, but she held her tongue, whether out of selfishness or terror at being alone again, she did not know.

As they walked forward across the courtyard Hermione thought back to the last time she had been here. She must have been about nine, it was before going to Hogwarts anyway. Her Father had taken her on a day trip to London and whilst Hermione had enjoyed the magnificent lions in Trafalgar Square and the grand architecture of the many bridges spanning the river, it had been here that she truly felt a sense of awe and belonging.

The idea that she was literally surrounded by books had been one of the best moments of her life up until that point. Above, below and around her, thousands and millions of words. _Infinite_ is what she had thought. There were so many books, so many stories to be told, that they could stretch to the end of time.

But no longer did she come back as Hermione, clutching tight to her Dad's hand. Instead she was Margaret Hodgkins, 43 years old. Harry was Barry Trot, and Ron had taken the name, William Gerald Hughes. They hurried forward, each feeling a twinge of nostalgia in their guts as the roof of St Pancreas and King's Cross peaked over the rooftops.

As they stepped inside Hermione scanned the hall quickly. She could seen no sign of any one following them and she mentally chided herself for looking out for black robed figures. If there were Death Eaters here, they would definitely be in muggle disguise.

"William, be a dear and wait for Phillis at the door", she said loudly in a high pitched voice to Ron. They had practiced this many times. There was no Phillis, but there needed to be a reason for Ron to stay put and survey the room, just in case there was anyone watching and observing the trio. Ron nodded and shuffled over to a bench near the door where there was a good view of the entrance hall.

Right on cue Harry turned to Hermione and in a gruff voice said, "I'm just going to take a look at the map, find out where we're supposed to be". He wandered off to inspect the large floor plan that hung on a large plaque from one of the walls.

Feeling Ron watching her from the corner of her eye Hermione walked over to the reception desk where two muggle women sat chatting to one another. As they saw her approach they stopped and looked at her with a smile, hiding well the obvious annoyance they felt at their conversation being interrupted by this plump short woman.

"How can I help you", the first asked in a broad Lancashire accent.

"Hello", said Hermione, "I was wondering whether you could direct me to a particular section of your library. I'm afraid I would find myself quite lost otherwise".

"Of course" said the woman behind the counter politely and took out a keyboard. "What is it you're looking for?"

"Anything on Ephidia Dodge really" said Hermione, glancing around to check whether anyone had overheard her mention a name which would only ever be known to those in the wizarding world.

"Could you spell that for me please?"

"Of course, it's E-P-H-I-D-I-A. And then Dodge with a 'D'" Hermione explained, fiddling again with the fake wedding band she had placed on her ring finger.

The first woman typed it in to the computer, the keys clacking as she spelled out the name. Hermione watched as she pressed enter and then frowned.

"It says there are no results found", she said to Hermione. "Are you sure that's how its spelt?"

"Positive" said Hermione, feeling disappointed. Had she heard McGongall right when she said there was a wizarding section? Maybe it was reserved for Professors only. Maybe she had completely made up the conversation in her hope and desperation to find a solution.

"Any ideas Barbara?" the first woman said to the second woman.

"Nope. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do though if it's not on the system" she said to Hermione, distinctly more coldly that the first woman.

"That's okay, I understand. Thank you anyway" said Hermione and moved away, shaking her head at Ron. By the time Hermione reached him Harry was also making his way over.

"Any luck?" she asked him but she already knew from the slump of his shoulders that there had been none.

"Well what do we do now?" Ron looked exasperated.

"I'm so sorry", whispered Hermione, "this is all my fault. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me and maybe I was wrong about what Professor McGonagall said. I'm so sorry". She hung her head, trying to stop her lip from quivering, unwilling to say any more in case she burst into tears.

"Hermione, this isn't your fault at all, you know that we'd do any- hang on. Isn't that Leigh Downpike?"

Whilst Hermione had been facing with her back to the entrance way, Harry had a good view of it, and she turned around sharply, searching out the crowd milling around the entrance hall. Leigh had been a sixth year when they had started at Hogwarts, and had been an excellent quidditch player for Ravenclaw. Many expected him to turn professional, but instead he had settled for a career in academia.

"Yes that's him", said Ron, standing up to get a better look. "He sometimes works with my brother, trying to use dragon fire as a cure for rare magical diseases, or so Charlie says".

"He may just be here to check out something muggle", said Harry, following the tall and skinny man through the hall with his eyes. Ron in turn rolled his.

"Harry the man deals with dragon fire. _Dragon fire_. How many muggles do you know that use that particular ingredient?"

Harry had never thought he would see the day where Ron lectured him on muggle ways, especially after the incident with the rubber duck, but he was, surprisingly, right.

"Let's follow him", said Hermione.

* * *

><p>They followed Leigh at a safe distance, sometimes losing him behind bookshelves and corners, but always managing to find him again quickly. After what seemed liked at least a mile of walking he stopped in front of a large bookshelf, mahogany roses twisting around its edges. They watched as he quickly checked over his shoulder for any one mulling around the deserted section, and failing to notice Harry, Ron and Hermione hidden behind behind rows of books, he took out his wand and tapped a quick pattern over the spines of numerous books. Silently the whole front swung forward and with another quick check over his shoulder he disappeared.<p>

Harry rushed forward to try to catch it as it swung shut but his fingers found only empty air.

"Damn", he muttered. Ron emerged and walked forward with his hands in the air.

"Now what? We've come all this way for nothing", he started to complain, gesturing towards the sealed door.

"Oh move over", said an impatient Hermione, pushing past Ron and pulling her wand out of her coat pocket. She began to tap her wand on the same spines at the man before her had, hesitating briefly at one section, and then remembering again. As she finished she stepped away nervously, her heart in her mouth, but with a click the passageway opened to reveal a stone corridor lit with rows of burning torches, shielded in glass cases.

"You're brilliant, you know that?" said Ron, looking admiringly at Hermione. Even watching her as a plump and greying Scottish woman, his eyes still gleamed with adoration and admiration. Hermione gave a small smile without looking at him and walked forward, so that the torches flared when they sensed her magical presence.

"Well I guess that answers it then: it does recognise our magic" she half muttered to Ron and Harry, half to herself.

They moved steadily on, the tunnel sloping sharply downwards. After some time they hit a wooden door banded with iron. There was no discernible key hole, although they was a large door knob, wrought out of many strands of twisted metal.

"Shit, how do we get through this one?" said Ron. "We didn't see him come through this way".

Hermione frowned and reached a finger forward to brush the door. She couldn't feel the familiar magical pulse of a warding spell, although not all spells had one. "Sometimes a door is just a door" she whispered and pushed forward, hoping with all her might that she was correct. And she was.

The door swung open to reveal a cavernous underground hall, reaching back further than the eye could see. Stone columns towered above them, holding up the weight of the ceiling, standing in regimented lines. There was no natural light, but everywhere candles burned, floating high into the air, casting flickering lights all about, but evaporating into darkness the further back you looked.

The trio found themselves in some sort of entrance area, and as they walked forward an impossibly old man looked up from where he sat at a large desk, his eyes magnified hugely by the thick glasses which he wore, and beckoned them forward. Behind him they could see the shadowy figures of people hunched over desks, and pulling down books, although all in all, the library appeared sparse in terms of visitors. A thick red rope separated them from the contents within. Leigh was no where to be seen.

"Names" he croaked at them, dipping a greying quill into an ink pot.

"Um, Margaret Hodginks", Hermione said stepping forward, "and these are Barry Trot and William Hughes".

The old man, whose face was so lined it looked as though he had wrinkles on his wrinkles, scratched their names into a huge ledger which rested on the desk before him.

"Section?" he croaked again, eyeing Hermione over the top of his glasses.

"Sorry? Section?" said Hermione, trying to quell her rising nerves.

"Yes, section. What section are you here to use?" he asked, obviously annoyed, although Hermione could hardly see why, it wasn't as if there was a queue.

"Dark Magic", she said after a pause, trying to sound convincing, although her tongue had gone parchment dry. The old man, who had his pen hovering over the ledger again, ready to write their business, stopped and frowned at her, if possible giving himself even more wrinkles.

"You need a letter from the Ministry to visit that section", he told her. Hermione could feel the heat rising to her cheeks but she tried to remain calm.

"Yes, exactly, we are here from the Ministry. Umbridge - Dolores Umbridge sent us".

"That may be so but I can't let you in without a signed letter from a Ministry official of High Ranking Status", he rasped, putting down his quill and crossing his arms.

"Um -"

" - we have been sent here as researchers for the Undersecretary of Magic's personal business, and she will not be happy if you will not allow us to enter the library, and instead insist on wasting her time with a foolish letter", said Ron stepping forward and nudging Hermione aside. The man behind the desk frowned again, but this time looked slightly sheepish.

"Ms Umbridge you say?" he asked Ron

"That's right, and she will not be happy to find out that you are wasting time on this frankly unimportant matter", Ron huffed, giving the man his best angry stare. Hermione held her breathe, waiting for him to raise the alarm, but to her surprise he nodded and scratched the letters 'DM' next to their names.

"Isle 77, Rows A-Z" he said finally, and with a flick of his wand the red rope bent back like a velvet serpent and allowed them entry. Ron sniffed and nodded, walking around the desk and into the library. Harry and Hermione hurried in after him.

"Ronald that was brilliant" whispered Hermione to him. Even with the polyjuice potion Ron's ears still went pink and he mumbled, "it was nothing" back.

They each performed a quick _lumos_ spell, searching the isles for number 77, which was made harder by the fact that there didn't seem to be any understandable order. After finding 76 and 78, Hermione was ready to pull out her hair, but suddenly there was a strangled yelp from Harry.

"Found it!", he said, his voice hushed even though there was no one else in that particular bit of the library. Hermione and Ron rushed over to him, where the tip of his wand shone a glowing silver light over a brass '77' nailed into the end of the bookshelf. Below it there was a small plaque, engraved with small cramped writing.

Hermione moved closer and hovered her own wand over it. "It's an index", she explained, running her finger down the list. She shivered when she saw categories such as 'Terror' and 'Insanity', but found some which seemed relevant. "Ron, you take 'Espionage', Harry you can have 'Enemies', and I'll take 'Binding'" she instructed them, moving over to Row F. "Remember...'Sapiunt Ligaveris'. They nodded and moved off too, disappearing into the darkness of the other rows.

Hermione ran her fingers down the fading spines of the books under 'Binding'. They had titles such as 'Master and Slave' and 'Marriage Rights of the 13th Century'. She almost gagged when she saw one entitled, 'Bending Your Woman to Your Desire: A Guide to Sexual Binding'. Trying to ignore the goose-pimples with pricked at her flesh she moved on, pulling down numerous books, some large and some small.

Taking all she could carry she moved to reading table and dropped the books onto it. A green-hooded lamp cast a not-too bright light on the first book as she picked it up and opened the brittle pages. There was no contents and no index in the large tome, just pages of text.

_The binding of service into the ranks of fighting armies is an honour on all that it is bestowed to,_ it began. A military book. Hermione sighed and closed it, picking up the next one: large and bound in red leather.

An hour later, she still hadn't found the spell and her neck was beginning to ache and the dim light was giving her a headache. Even worse, she didn't know how long the polyjuice potion would last for. Rubbing a hand over her eyes she picked up the last book in her pile, small and bound in a light blue cloth. It's title was etched in gold along its spine: 'Mind and Body of the Chosen'.

_Long has man wished to be guided in their pursuit for the truth, the book began, long have those of the superior races deserved a right to those undesirables who need to be controlled to live in a civilised society. The writer of this book too feels these needs and has produced this text to allow worthy men to exert such control over those whose life is too chaotic and too poor to function by themselves. This especially include non-magical folk and those low-borns who possess base magic, commonly known as "Mudbloods"._

_Those that are Chosen are privileged to be connected to fine men as yourselves. Their pitiful lives will be saved by your direction and they will become yours, much as you can own a house, or a watch._

Hermione clenched her fingers together. She still just could not believe that there were people who thought that being magic in a non-magical family were second rate human beings. She was just about to slam the book shut when something caught her eye at the bottom of the page. A footnote to be more exact.

_1. The binding of both elements is most commonly used in Holy Matrimony (details on page 64) and commonly deriving from the ancient black art, Sapiunt Ligaveris (details on page 103)._

Hermione's breathing quickened and she felt dizzy. There was a shooting pain in her chest and for a moment she felt that the oxygen has dissolved from the air. She thought that she might faint, but then her vision cleared and she reached a shaking hand to turn the pages, a cold shiver running through her. Taking as a deep a breath as she could manage she began to read.

_Known as one of the most powerful binding spells, Sapiunt Ligaveris was developed by the Quoxocksi Tribe of the 4th Century as a means of controlling those deemed impure or unworthy. The nature of the spell is such that the bindee is accountable to Master at all times and is able to be controlled through instruction and forceable sanctions in their presence._

_Whilst the Tribes of old traditionally used the spell for the control of their wives and mistresses, it was found to be a particularly useful detection tool, as Masters were able to witness the bindee's memories and access all and every impression from the date of binding. Whilst useful to discover indiscretions' of the controlled, this soon proved useful in enemy warfare, with Masters binding themselves to the enemy and then releasing them back to their superiors._

_The nature of the spell is such that the bindee must return to Master, or else suffer uncontrollably and eventually meet their fate in death. It is for this reason that many return to Master, who upon the re-binding has access to their memories and is thus able to seal their enemies fate with access to private information gleaned from the bindee's memories._

Hermione sat back and rubbed her hurting chest, trying to draw more air into her lungs. This spell was sick, there was nothing else to be said about it. She refused to accept that she was bound to another, to a 'Master'. To Snape. She continued to read on.

_The most successful binding mechanism is that of combining the blood and the seed of both bindee and Master. This will require the mixing of blood which is then passed between the two. This will form the connection of the Mind, opening up it's gates and allowing for immediate entry on the act of re-joining._

_The second involves the Master passing on his seed to the bindee, which can be achieved through copulation and/or fellatio. It is this that binds the body of the bindee to Master, and only by regularly repeating the passing of the seed can the bindee survive. Further, it is only on the act of passing that the gates of the mind can be opened to the Master._

_The only known way to break the spell is for either the bindee or Master to perish._

Hermione gagged and retched, but nothing came out. Her heart was beating so fast she thought that it might explode and the pain in her chest became hot and searing. Did - did this mean that unless she slept with Snape again, that she would die? Is that what he meant when he told her 'only one solution would suffice'? So _that_ was it? _That_ was his solution!? To sleep with him or die!

She wouldn't do it. She couldn't. If she went back and was saved from the fate which would otherwise befall her, then she would let Snape know everything that had happened since she came back to the boys. They had been careful not to mention the hunt for the Horcruxes, but what if something had accidentally slipped out without her noticing? What is Voldemort pieced the puzzle together and worked it out for himself? They would be doomed.

She felt a cold sweat trickle between her shoulder blades as she stared down at the writing which had become a blur on the page now. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening to her.

_But it is_, something in the back of her mind told her. This time when she retched, she couldn't help it when she vomited onto the floor, coughing up the remains of breakfast, her eyes red and streaming.

"Hermione?" came a voice close by.

"Shit" she muttered horsely and scourgified the mess away with her wand.

"Hermione, are you okay? I heard something", said Ron, emerging from the darkness with his wand extended in front of him. Hermione tried to turn her head to avoid him seeing her blotchy and tear stained face but not in time. He rushed forward towards her, pulling her up and wrapping his arms around her.

This comforting gesture made Hermione cry even more. Ron took it for her opening up to him, not knowing that the reason for her tears was her fright at him being so close, her disgust at feeling so dirty that no one should ever touch her again. She pushed herself gently away from him and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

"Sorry, I think I just got a bit overwhelmed", she said to him, picking up the book. There were footsteps approaching from behind Ron and he turned around. Hermione quickly took the opportunity to rip out the bottom half of the page and stuff it into her pocket, along with the note from Snape. They couldn't know about what Snape had done to her. About what had to happen.

When Ron turned back around, Harry was next to him she handed them the book, waiting for them both to finish reading.

"What happened to the bottom of the page?", Ron asked, turning the book round to show Hermione the now ripped page.

"I don't know", she sniffed, "it was like that when I found it".

Harry grimaced. "So what it's saying is that at some point you will have to go back to this 'Master' figure. Which is Snape?" Hermione nodded. "And if you don't go back, then you'll -", Harry's voice cut off, unable to say it, the word caught in his throat.

"Yes", whispered Hermione.

"But if you go back, Snape can see all your memories and then pass them onto Voldemort", said Ron.

"That's what it seems like", answered Harry for her.

They stood in silence, unable to comprehend what this meant for their tight-knit friendship, for their plan to rid the world of the most evil wizard of all time, for everything.

It was Hermione who spoke first, quietly, mournfully.

"Please take me home".


	7. Interlude

The air was warm, glowing embers still heating the room, but Snape sat shivering - cold.

He had no knowledge of how long the spell would take to start to affect the girl, but he could bet it was soon. The spell was old, and powerful, and not to mention performed by one of the most competent, if not _the_ most competent wizard in the entire world. His Master. Voldemort.

Snape ran a hand through his hair, sitting back in his armchair, feeling his stomach clench and his skin itch. Unconsciously he brushed his fingers over his Dark Mark, feeling the slightly raised edge of skin from where the mark was brandished into him. At one point it had caused only pride in him, a glowing sense that he, Severus Snape, would make those who teased him, taunted him, made his life hell, rue the day that he was born. But over time pride had turned to anger, and confusion. Hate even.

The man who he had worshipped had killed the love of his life. Granted, he had also killed his worse enemy, but love - love is so much stronger than hate. And Voldemort had ripped away the only love Snape had ever felt.

Still though, he had continued to serve him, but his allegiances had led him to Albus Dumbledore's door. He remember how he had groveled and begged for him to keep _her_ safe and he remembered how his wand had pointed directly at the older wizard's jugular after he had held her in his arms, dead and cold, until the morning.

But despite his running back and forth between two masters, there were still two sides of him which pushed and pulled him to the Light and the Dark.

He had no one left to live for.

No one cared about him.

Why not just turn to the Dark, it was so much easier that way? The Darkness had always come to him so much easier than the Light.

But then he would let her down. His Lilly.

He didn't think he could bare it, hurting her all over again, so he stayed - hovering between two opposing sides like a puppet on a string.

If only though he could play the messenger, but each side required something of him. For Dumbledore he must teach. For Voldemort, he must rape, and maim, and kill. Over time he had learnt to keep them separate, to lock each part required of him away, but this time it had been so much worse - the two had collided. His student had become the victim. _His_ victim. No matter how much she annoyed him with her incessant questioning and know it all ways which reminded him so much of Lilly it made him sick, she was still an innocent, helpless, little girl. And he had ruined her.

Severus Snape: destroyed of worlds.

Flashbacks which he thought he could control were surfacing again. Not just of Hermione, but of countless girls and women. Vacant stares and muffled screams. Soft thuds and dull whimperings. They replayed over and over in his mind like a never-ending rhythm of pain and suffering until he couldn't stand it any longer. It would surely drive him crazy. He squeezed shut his eyes and bellowed and screamed one long mournful and deep note. And once his breath had run out, he did it again, and again, until his voice was hoarse and he stood in the middle of the room panting and breathless.

She would come soon, and when she did, he had to be ready.

For both of them.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione scratched her fingernail over the edge of the table, pieces of wood occasionally peeling off and becoming lodged under her nail. She tried to focus her eyes on the book laid out before her, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as waves of pain passed through her. She gritted her teeth together and clung on to the edge of the table, trying to shut it away inside of her.

It was starting, she knew it. It was like a hot needle was being stuck through her middle, and just as she thought that she might pass out from the pain, it disappeared and its memory was more like a dream. It had been like this for the past two days since they had returned from the library, and whilst Hermione hated to admit it, they were getting stronger and more frequent.

The hairs on her arms prickled and a bead of sweat formed on her forehead and ran down the length of her jaw as another wave jolted through her. She balled her fists together, digging her nails into her flesh so hard that she was sure she would draw blood, but she needed that pain to counteract the other, so that she didn't pass out.

1-2-3-

She began to count, trying to take her mind off the searing heat that melted her insides and turned her organs to charcoal.

4-5-6-

If possible the pain grew even more, moving from her lower stomach further up her chest, touching at her lungs so that every breath was like a thousand stabbing needles.

7-8-9-

It had reached her heart and she was sure that her blood was boiling. She had stopped breathing now and the edges of her vision began to go black. Then suddenly-

10. It stopped. Relief flooded Hermione and she took a shaky breath of air, forcing oxygen into her lungs. A noise from outside the tent made her quickly draw the book closer to herself and she desperately tried to brush away the sheen of sweat which had covered her face as she pretended to be in the middle of reading.

"'Mione, you okay?" asked Ron as he stuck his face in through the tent flaps. Hermione nodded quickly, throwing him a weak smile. "You sure? I can stay here if you'd like?" he asked, sounding almost hopeful.

"No, you go ahead. Honestly Ron I'm fine", she said to him, trying to keep the sheer exhaustion out of her voice. "I'm just going to do a bit of reading anyway", she explained, resting a sweaty hand on the familiar pages of Hogwarts: A History.

"Well if you're positive-"

"I am", she said, a little more forcefully this time. She couldn't help but notice the dejected look on Ron's face before he mustered a friendly smile, nodded and left.

She hadn't told either Harry or Ron yet about the pains, although she was sure that they knew. She vaguely remembered waking up in the middle of the night with Ron by her side, mopping at her brow with a wet sponge, but when she woke up she had thought maybe that she'd dreamed it. Either way, it was better, easier even, not to discuss it. Focus on the mundane and keep going, that is what she intended to do.

* * *

><p>Ron trudged down the bank covered with leaves, grasping onto spindly tree trunks in an effort not to slip. Harry waited for him at the bottom and turned around when he heard his friend coming.<p>

"She said she's okay", Ron said to him, finally reaching the bottom. He shook his head, looking decidedly unhappy. "I don't know who she thinks she's kidding though...it's pretty obvious she's _not_ okay". Harry too looked worried but tried to comfort his friend with a pat on the back.

"I think she's just scared of what'll happen if she admits something is wrong", he said, walking forward. Ron followed, kicking up leaves with his shoes.

"I guess I'm just used to her being the strong one, you know?". Harry nodded in understanding. "I just - I just wish that I could look after her, help her. But she won't let me. I mean that's what friends are for right?", Ron continued, looking frustrated and helpless all at the same time. Harry laughed, although it sounded slightly off.

"Ginny's the same mate, she won't let me do a thing for her", Harry said as they reached the stream from which they had been gathering water from. His back was to Ron but he could almost feel the embarrassment radiating off him in waves.

"Well, it's not really like you and Ginny though, Hermione is just, just a friend, that's all", he spluttered. Harry smiled to himself as he plunged the pail he was carrying into the cold water.

"Sure you are"

"Hey! What are you saying Harry?"

"Nothing, nothing..." Harry said, turning around with the now full pail and placing it on the ground in front of him. Ron handed him the other that he was carrying.

"God, can you imagine me, with Hermione of all people? Ha! No. No I don't think so. And anyway, it's not as if she even likes me like that" he said, laughing nervously. Harry shrugged and handed him back his now full pail.

They began to walk back to the tent in silence, slower this time what with the weight of the water weighing them down.

"Harry, what happens when we have to take her to..._him_?" Ron said finally, stepping over a large tree root.

"Snape?"

"Eugh. Even his name gives me the creeps. But yes. _Snape_. Surely there will be people watching the school?"

"We go to Hogsmeade then. Take one of the secret passages to Hogwarts", said Harry arriving back at the tent and setting his pail down. "I'm sure -"

He stopped as there was a crash inside the tent. Ron dropped his pail, water spilling everywhere, but no one cared as they rushed inside to find Hermione on her knees, clawing at her chest. A broken glass was shattered in the middle of the floor and a chair was overturned. In a moment they were by her side.

"Hermione! What's the matter?" asked Harry, dropping to her side and grabbing her hands away from where they were scratching at the bare skin of her chest, long red gashes appearing like comet tails.

"Can't breathe", she gasped, and Harry noticed a faint blue tinge around the edge of her mouth and the paleness of her skin.

"Get her up!" he yelled to Ron who stood dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open in shock. With a gulp though he moved into action, yanking Hermione to her feet and half dragging, half carrying her outside into the fresh air.

"Harry what do we do!?" he asked, panicked, struggling to support the dead-weight in his arms whose legs were beginning to go from underneath her.

"We have to go", Harry said back, his voice full of dread.

"But-"

"No Ron, _now_. We have to go _now_. Or else, or else -". Ron understood without Harry having to say it, and with a nod he steeled his nerves and picked Hermione up into his arms. Her green eyes fluttered upwards towards him, and he looked down at her, whispering into her hair. "It will be okay. I promise". Harry grabbed a hold of the pair of them, focusing his mind on Hogsmeade and closing his eyes.

* * *

><p>They landed with a thud in the middle of a deserted street and Harry quickly pulled Ron and Hermione into a dark side street.<p>

"How's she doing?" he asked Ron, passing a hand over Hermione's forehead.

"I don't know, I don't know", he whimpered, his earlier courage fading him and his eyes growing round and scared. "I should have told her" he whispered, "I should have told her how I felt".

"This isn't it Ron. You can tell her later", he said, trying to calm his friend who looked on the verge of tears. "First though, we have to get to Hogwarts". He moved forward and peered around into the street.

Most of the shop fronts had been boarded up and in some cases clothes were strewn over the entrances, as if the inhabitants had left in a hurry, carrying all they owned in their arms. It was eerily quiet, and apart from the squeaking of wooden signs swaying in the wind, the whole place was as silent as the grave.

"Ron, I think we could make it to the Three Broomsticks and then floo in from there" he said in a hushed voice, noticing how Honeydukes, along with it's secret passage, was well and truly closed, pieces of timber nailed over its door and window frames.

"But Harry, the floo's are closed into the school".

"Not Dumbledore's" he said, peering over his shoulder to look back at Ron. "He always said there were privileges to being Headmaster".

"How do we even know if Madam Rosmerta will be there though? Everything looks pretty deserted to me"

"There's no other option" Harry said, looking around the street once more, catching a white frightened face peering down at him from one of the windows. "We can't stay here any longer. Follow me".

They snuck into the street, sticking close to the boarded up shops and edging along until they reached a large door where three weathered broomsticks hung over its frame. Harry felt a sinking feeling of dread as he realised that the windows here were boarded too, but there was nothing he could do but pound his fist on the door.

"Madam Rosmerta!" he called out, worried that his voice would carry down the street. "Madam Rosmerta!"

Just as he was about to give up, the door cracked open an inch. "What do you want?" said a voice came from inside. It was strong, but frightened too. Harry couldn't see her, but he knew the voice well.

"Madam Rosmerta, we have to get to Hogwarts quickly. If we could just use your floo" he said desperately, glancing over his shoulder at the empty street, scared that at any moment it could fill with Death Eaters.

"You know what they'd do to me if they'd discovered I'd helped you?" said the landlady, a grey eye appearing in the crack. "They'd kill me" she whispered.

"Please" Harry begged. "Please help us, you're our only option". There was silence, only broken by Ron muttering "shit, shit, shit" to himself behind Harry. After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a few seconds, the door was closed, a lock turned and then it opened fully to reveal a short but lean woman with grey frizzy hair and steel eyes to match.

"Come in, quickly", she beckoned them, and they wasted no time entering the familiar pub. As the door closed behind them, their eyes found it hard to adjust to the gloom, but soon they realised that Madam Rosmerta wasn't just here by herself. Crowded onto the floorspace were families, huddled together on threadbare blankets, some even nestled behind the bar itself.

Every eye followed the trio in but they didn't stop; there were no introductions as they were ushered over to the unlit fireplace. "Go quickly", the innkeeper said to them, "go quietly, and above all, if you're captured, you didn't come from here".

Harry nodded and pulled Ron into the fireplace with him, not failing to notice that Hermione's breath was now short and shallow and her eyes had begun to roll back into her head. "Thank you", he said sincerely, not just to Madam Rosmerta, but to the families that watched them with glittering eyes. He couldn't help but feel that it was because of him they were here suffering, but he pushed his guilt down and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the pot offered to him.

"Albus Dumbledore's Office", he spoke loudly and clearly, throwing the powder down around both himself and Ron. With a roar of green flame they disappeared.

"Good luck, Harry Potter", Madam Rosmerta whispered after them, and turned around to resume looking after the young and injured.

* * *

><p>Ron sank to his knees as soon as they landed, crouching in the ash of the large stone fireplace. Hermione's skin had began to turn grey and Ron began to sob as he felt her cold cheeks.<p>

"My dear boy", came a voice from inside the room. Elderly and kind, Harry felt a pang of home as he looked up from where Ron sat cradling the girl he loved, surrounded in ashes, to where a tall and ancient man stood behind his desk. He wore purple robes, the colour of nightshade, his long silvery grey beard tucked into a star spangled belt.

Moving with the agility of a man much younger than himself, he was at the fireplace in moments, peering down over his half moon glasses at the three young students before him.

"Professor" said Harry, letting out a sigh of relief. Dumbledore smiled at him, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges as he did so.

"What is the matter Harry?" he asked, cocking his head to the side

"Sir, we need your help", Harry said, glancing at the limp form of Hermione. Dumbledore's eyes followed his own, taking in the sight of Hermione and Ron.

"Mr Weasley, she is a strong girl and is not quite finished yet", he said kindly to Ron who looked at him, his eyes full of tears and bowed his head slightly.

"Professor we need -" began Harry before Dumbledore raised a hand to stop him.

"Professor Snape is expecting you"

"You know?" Harry asked startled.

"There will be time for this conversation later Harry," he said, "but first, please take Miss Granger to the dungeons".

Harry made towards the door to the office but Dumbledore again stopped him. "This way please", he said, leading them over to a large bookshelf towards one side of the office. Harry looked at him confused to which Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow upwards.

"You didn't think there was only one way down now did you?" he asked amused as the bookshelf swung forward to reveal a dark stone passageway. "Follow the steps down and it will lead you to the dungeons" he said and beckoned Ron forward who began to descend down the steps. Harry too stepped forward but before he could begin to follow his friend Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I can see in your eyes that you have many questions that require answers Harry, but even Hogwarts has spies in its walls. One day we will talk, but today is not that day. Now go. Do not tarry. I fear Miss Granger is close". He suddenly looked weary, as if in the space of thirty seconds he had aged by a hundred years, but upon seeing Harry looking at him concerned, he smiled, straightened his shoulders and gave Harry a gentle shove into the doorway.

"Remember Harry, it is not our darkness that defines us, it is how we overcome that darkness that makes us who we are", he said with a wink, and closed the secret entrance behind him. Harry stared at the closed door briefly, but Dumbledore was right: they were running out of time. He turned and hurried on after Ron.

* * *

><p>The potions classroom hadn't changed at all since they had last been at Hogwarts, and the sight of the teacher's podium still filled Harry and Ron with a nameless dread, but today it was empty and the classroom stood dark and deserted.<p>

"Common" Ron beckoned to Harry as they made their way to the other side of the room where the entrance to Snape's office stood. Before they could reach it though the door was thrown open and there stood none other than Severus Snape, fully robed, tall and menacing.

"Professor Snape we-"

"Do not waste your time Potter, hand her to me" he chided, his deep voice echoing around the dungeon. He glided with his ever surprising grace for such a tall man, down the stairs which lead to his office, to where Harry and Ron stood frozen into place.

"Don't be silly boy" he spat at Ron who grasped Hermione even tighter.

"What are you going to do to her?" Harry asked, determined not to let Snape stare him down.

"_That_ is none of your business" he snapped at Harry. "Now Weasley, give her to me" he said, advancing on Ron who took a step backwards.

'Not until you tell us what's going to happen to her" he said meekly. Snape stopped and glared down at him.

"You want to know what's going to happen to her? She's going to _die_ Weasley, that's what's going to happen to her if you don't allow me access to your dear precious Granger". Ron grimaced, withering under Snape's intense glare. Finally though he stepped forward, loosening his grip on Hermione so that Snape could levitate her out of his arms.

To both Harry and Ron's surprise though he swooped forward and took her in his own, gathering her against his chest, supporting her head against him. The boys stared at him wide eyed but Snape, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened merely gave them his most ferocious glare.

"Leave. _Now_." he hissed at them, and without even waiting for an answer, turned his back on them, strode towards his office and slammed shut the door, taking Hermione with him into the darkness behind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Dear Readers, I would just like to say a massive thank you to all those who have so far reviewed this story. I put a lot of effort into these chapters, and no matter how excited I am by where the story is going, it is always disheartening to post a chapter and receive little to no reviews. Whilst long time users of this site are well aware that the number of reviews one has is in no way indicative of the quality of the story being told, it is always nice to know that your work is appreciated. Having said that though, I would also like to say a thank you to those readers who have placed this story on alert. You guys are all awesome :) **

**Moving on, a quick friendly reminder that this story is rated M, and the next chapter is slightly graphic. You have been warned! **

* * *

><p>Despite his expressionless face, Severus Snape's heart was pounding as he kicked open the door to his chambers and laid the unconscious girl down on the sofa. Her head lolled to the side, brown ringlets obscuring her greying skin from him. Pushing them behind her ear with a rough gesture he felt for her pulse. It was there, but barely.<p>

One part of him was angry at her for not coming sooner, for risking her life, but then again, it was all too possible that she hadn't found out about the effects of the spell. She was so out of it when it happened it was a possibility that she didn't even know that they had been linked. Perhaps Potter and Weasley had simply just assumed that he could help; she must have told them about what had happened back in Malfoy Manor, the fact that he had been there. But no, she could not have told them the entire truth, or else those fools who were no doubt still sitting in his classroom would surely have tried to kill him by now. _Let them try_, he thought to himself darkly as he surveyed the young girl in front of him.

"Miss Granger?" he asked, his voice loud and clear. He gently tapped her on the cheek, trying to rouse a reaction from her, but her eyes remained firmly shut, her dry lips parted ever so slightly. Snape knew that time was running out for her but he wasn't sure he could do what was required to save her. Violating her once was horrifying enough, doing it again to her whilst she was unconscious would surely ruin both of them. But this was bigger than them, much bigger - they were just small pieces in a much larger puzzle, and this needed to be done for the greater cause.

Slipping his arms under her he lifted her limp body up, his feet mechanically carrying them to the bedroom where he put her down onto the bed. She could easily have been sleeping, her legs slightly curled up underneath her, her head resting onto the pillow, curls spilling around her, but her lips were now a frightening shade of blue, and there was not a hint of colour in her cheeks. Snape agitatedly ran a hand through his hair feeling the blood thumping in his ears. He _had_ to do this. She would die if he didn't and so would he if Voldemort found out that he had refused her. He felt sick and he tried his best to control the bile rising in the back of his throat.

His long fingers somehow remained steady as he pulled off her shoes, throwing them to the corner of the room in a clatter. Her toenails, he saw, were painted a candy pink and his skin crawled. _She's just a girl_ he thought as he ran to the bathroom just in time, the contents of his meagre lunch upended into the toilet bowl. Eyes streaming he ran himself a glass of water and drank it down in large gulps, filling it up again and finishing that one off too.

Could he do this? Could he _really_ do this? '_Yes_' he whispered to himself in the darkened bathroom, clenching his fists and steeling his nerves '_you have to_'. He fumbled at the buttons of his overcoat, hurriedly pulling it off himself and throwing it down to the ground. There was a chill in the air but he pulled at the collar of his shirt, the material burning his hot skin. _Just pretend it's someone else_ he thought to himself as he re-entered the bedroom and moved over to her side. He felt her pulse again. She was fading - fast.

Gulping he undid the button of her jeans, sliding a hand under her lower back and gently lifting her up so that he could ease the material over her buttocks. Her legs were pale and covered in criss-crossing scars but he tried not to focus on them. They weren't Hermione Granger's legs. They weren't his students legs. They belonged to a nameless person. At least that was what he tried to tell himself. He finally maneuvered the jeans to her shins, taking her feet in his hands and bending her ankles so that he could remove her trousers.

Refusing to look at her he quickly grabbed a throw from the end of the bed and threw it over her half-naked body. He had to try and preserve her dignity somehow, even if this was the best that he could do. Standing he moved to the other side of the bed, kicked off his boots and clambered in underneath the throw. He jumped when he felt her cold skin next to his and automatically reeled away in disgust; it was like sharing a bed with a corpse.

"She will be a corpse in a minute if you don't do your fucking duty" he chided himself under his breath as he reached down and undid his belt, pulling both his trousers and boxers down to his ankles. He didn't kick them off though. Somehow, completely removing his clothing felt too intimate, too personal.

A shudder ran through him as his fingers fumbled against her hip bone and finally found the material of her knickers. They were lacy and he grimaced. He considered simply leaving them on her, maybe pulling them to one side would suffice, but no, he needed both hands for this, and he yanked the material forcefully down, his fingernail accidentally scraping her flesh.

The metal of his belt clanked impossibly loudly as he turned and positioned his leg over her, his eyes searching the wall in front of him. Despite extinguishing all of the candles, there was still a dim light which his eyes had now grown accustomed to and he was determined not to look at her.

With one free hand he supported his weight above her and with the other he reached down to grasp his flaccid member. "Come on" he hissed in annoyance at his own body as he remained soft, tugging at himself in an effort to get hard. It was no use though with the unconscious girl underneath him...surely there could be no bigger turn _off_. But this wasn't the time for pleasantries. Squeezing shut his dark eyes he pushed memories to the surface, not this time of victims, but of woman _paid_ to please him. Of woman who kissed him hard, although not passionately, of women who had gagged on his manhood as he thrust it into their mouths, of women who had screamed loudly as he had taken them forcefully from behind.

Finally he began to grow hard, although he wasn't sure how long he could hold it for. With his own knee he gently eased Hermione's legs apart and almost lost his erection as his eyes flitted to her face to check that she was still unconscious. Keeping his eyes once more locked on the bedpost he reached his hand down to find the skin of her privates. His hand came out dry and he cursed. He knew that she wasn't a virgin anymore, he had already seen to that, but there was no way that he could even enter her, let alone complete the act, if she remained as dry as the Sahara.

"Please forgive me", he whispered to her lifeless form as he reached his hand once more underneath the covers and pushed a long index finger inside of her. Even in her unconscious state biology took a hold and he felt her becoming wet. A wave of disgust ran through him when he realised that his erection had now become stiff and throbbing. So much for worrying that it might not last. Pushing another finger into her he moved in slow circles, reaching a thumb up into her folds to brush at the hard knot of her clit. This time when he pulled his fingers out they came away wet. Satisfied, he positioned the tip of his swollen penis above her.

He couldn't help but groan as he pushed inside of her, she was just so _tight_. He tried not to think of the fact that the person underneath him was unresponsive and limp, and instead concentrated on the growing pleasure building in his balls. He began to move faster, wanting this so much to be over, but also ashamed at how good it felt. His hand grabbed hold of the bed frame, using it to push into her faster, harder. Finally though he could hold it no longer and he came inside of her.

In that moment it was as though a firework went off inside his skull, as if his very brain had orgasmed too. He gasped as her memories became his memories, even her feelings passing to him. Fright and anguish and fear and joy and happiness and overwhelming grief. All of it became his and even as an accomplished leglimens, this was something astonishing to say the least.

Still panting and out of breathe from not just the sex, but also from the incredible barrage of information with which he had just been assaulted, he withdrew, his cock flopping out of her wetly. He stood up and threw back the covers quickly, pulling up his trousers in haste, worried that the girl might wake up, but her laboured breathing had now turned to a deep rhythmic inhale and exhale and he realised that whilst she was still unconscious, she was no longer near death, only sleeping.

He walked to where he had thrown both her shoes and jeans, not bothering to do up his trousers, and retreated back to the bed where he lit a candle with the flick of his wand. He peeled back the throw from her, and although she had shifted slightly in her now deep slumber so that her legs were now closed, he could not help but feel sick again as he noticing the shine of his semen over her thighs. Muttering a spell he directed his wand at her and cleaned off the mess he had made. Satisfied he pulled back on her clothes and laid the throw back over her. Extinguishing the candle he had lit, he left her in the darkness to sleep.

* * *

><p>The chair toppled backwards as Ron shot out of it, watching as Snape lazily descended the steps to his office.<p>

"Is she -"

"She's fine Weasley", he interrupted with a wave of his hand,

"But how -"

"Enough!", Snape bellowed, cutting Ron short again. He strode across the classroom to menacingly glower down at him. "My classroom, my rules Weasley", he sneered, his black eyes thunderous, "and I say _leave_".

"But Hermione!" Ron protested, his cheeks turning pink.

"Miss Granger will do better without the pair of you blockheaded morons around to hamper her recovery" Snape said cooly. Ron flushed again and his shoulders shrunk in defeat. Harry had remained silent throughout this encounter, but now he turned to Snape, meeting him eye for eye.

"And how exactly did you cure her..._Professor_?" he asked, his tone steady but his question loaded. Snape glared at him.

"Can the infamous boy wonder not comprehend the fact that there may be things that he doesn't actually know?" spat out Snape. Harry didn't even blink at the insult and maintained eye contact with the dark eyed man who stood nearly a foot taller than him.

"Even the healers at St Mungo's would have had a hard time helping her", he said quietly, "we both saw her...she was nearly dead. Yet here you stand, not less than half an hour later telling us she will be fine."

"How dare you speak to me like that Potter", he hissed, "you should be more careful of how you speak to your - _superiors_". Harry snorted, their horns well and truly locked.

"Superiors? Or _Masters_?" he answered back, his green eyes dark and dangerous. For a moment Snape froze. So they knew? How, he did not know, no doubt it had been with the girls help, but they had obviously not found out about the true nature of the - bonding experience. He quickly righted himself and sneered.

"What you and Weasley get up to in your spare time is between the pair of you", he laughed in barbed tones, "I always wondered why the two of you were so close, but now I can see why. Master indeed. Let me guess," he said, fixing his eyes on Ron, "you're definitely the taker". Ron spluttered, this time turning fully red.

"I - I, we don't- we're not- "

"We're not leaving without Hermione", Harry interrupted, failing to rise to Snape's cruel taunts.

"As you so eloquently put it Potter, she _was_ nearly dead, and as such is in no fit state to carry on whatever jaunts the three of you had planned".

"So what, you expect us to just leave her here...with you?"

"That is _exactly_ what I expect you to do Potter. She will be fine in a day or two, you can come back and get the little twot then". Harry frowned, unsure of whether to trust Snape or not. He had been there at that mansion, but Dumbledore had always tried to convince Harry that Snape was working for them. He narrowed his eyes.

"And how exactly will we get back here?"

"Watch your tone with me boy", said Snape angrily, but he nonetheless fished into his robe pocket and withdrew what looked like a golden sickle. "Take this", he said, handing the coin over to Harry. "It will glow when I require your presence. Tap it with your wand and it will return you to this room."

"So it's like a portkey?" asked Ron. Snape rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"The wards will be down as soon as you tap the coin and this will only last for 30 seconds, so I advise you not to tarry"

"And Professor Dumbledore knows about this?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"Of course he does you stupid boy", said Snape angrily, "whose coin do you bloody well think it is?" Harry frowned but said nothing. "This is also yours". From inside his robe he pulled out a small package and handed it to Harry. Ripping its paper off he recognised the shimmer of material instantly.

"My invisibility cloak!", he yelled, "but wait, why do _you_ have it?" Snape sighed, apparently bored to tears by the conversation they were now having.

"My God you really are thick aren't you Potter. Dumbledore handed it to me to pass on to you. Surely you've gotten it through your dumb skull by now that most of this is the Headmasters doing?" Harry grimaced at him but otherwise remained silent. "Now take Weasley with you and head out to the front gates, apparate from there, somewhere _far_ away from _me_", he spat, turning around and ascending the steps at the back of the classroom. "Oh and Potter", he drawled as he reached the top, looking back to where Harry was now placing the cloak around himself and Ron, "try not to blow yourself up without Granger there to help you". Harry glared at him and was about to say something back but the door was slammed shut before he'd even had a chance to open his mouth.

* * *

><p>Hermione's eyes fluttered open slowly. At first she thought she was still asleep, but then she realised that the room in which she was lying was dark. Her head was throbbing and her tongue was parched and she yearned for a glass of water to wash away the vile taste in her mouth. How long had she been out?<p>

All she could remember from before was pain. White, hot, searing pain that coursed through her veins. She must have passed out, because the next thing she was aware of was waking up in this room of darkness. She could have sworn that she had dreamed, but she had no recollection of what about.

She pushed herself up in the bed, her limbs protesting. Looking around her eyes slowly adjusted to the light and for the first time realised that there was no more pain. Which meant -

Oh God. Had he - ?

He must of, unless he'd found a way around the spell, which she very much doubted. As if in answer to her question she registered with a sob the dull throb which emanated from her private parts. She gasped, too shocked to cry. It had been real then? The spell, the pain...everything. She had hoped that maybe it was just a bad dream, that somehow the inevitable wouldn't have happened, but it seemingly had.

Perhaps it was better that she couldn't remember anything, but somehow she felt worse about it. He had been here with her. How had he done it? She hoped he had been quick, decent about it. What was it he had said before? Trust him. Well she didn't, and now he had raped her - twice. A dangerous and powerful Death Eater like Severus Snape being handed an unconscious young woman - he had probably been at her for hours.

Her head spun as she climbed slowly out of bed. Her wand lay next to her on a small nightstand and she picked it up, holding it out in front of her like a shield. There was no doubt that she was in his quarters, she could even _smell_ him. Herbes and spices and mint. This was her chance to do something about her current predicament, whilst the opportunity was available to her. To break the bond one of them had to die, and she was sure as hell it wouldn't be her. She'd never killed a man before, but there's a first for everything she thought to herself.

Unlatching the door her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light after the darkness of the bedroom. She had seen this place before, back when Snape had apparated them here from Malfoy Manor. She knew the way out and she still had the deluminator. Whatever Snape had done to Harry and Ron, she could find them again after she had killed him and they could continue on the hunt for Horcruxes then.

The only problem though, was that Snape was no where to be seen. Keeping her back to the wall Hermione edged around the room, trying out different doors, although all appeared to be locked.

"Miss Granger what on earth are you doing?" came a deep voice from behind her as she tried pushing one of the doors inwards. She spun to face him, distressed at having been caught off guard, her wand pointed directly at his chest. He in turn looked neither scared nor frightened, merely slightly concerned. In his hand he held a glass of water, but no wand. He was undefended.

"Stay away from me, I'm warning you", she mustered, extending her wand arm further towards him, but taking a step backwards just in case. Her eyes were wild and her hair a complete mess, but Snape didn't doubt that the warning did indeed contain real consequences.

"I was bringing you a glass of water", he explained, gesturing at the glass. Hermione ignored him.

"I know what you did" she said. Her voice was small and despite the fact that it was her holding the wand to him, she looked so diminutive and scared with her eyes round and frightened that Snape could only feel pity for her.

"And what was it that I supposedly did?" he asked her calmly.

"You - you raped me", she said in a voice only just above a whisper, as if she were telling a secret to a friend.

"Miss Granger, the Dark Lord, he would have -"

"No, no", cut off Hermione. Snape swallowed his annoyance at having been interrupted by her and let her continue. "I mean _now_. That's why I'm here." So she did know then, even if those idiot friends of hers didn't. Snape thought about lying to her, she would never have to know what he had done, but looking into her eyes he realised that he owed her more than that. He didn't deny it for this very reason, only bowing his head to her in ascent.

"I can't believe this!" she said loudly, "you - you creep! I wasn't even awake!"

"Miss Granger please", Snape begged of her, willing her to calm down, watching both her and her wand simultaneously.

"You've been planning this haven't you!? Ever since I was a little girl!" Shocked by her sudden utterance Severus could hardly find the words to speak, a rare occurrence as it was.

"You are talking complete nonsense now girl. Do not flatter yourself so, even if you will accuse me of being a perverted old man", he admonished her angrily. "You know what the spell does then I assume?" he asked her, quelling his anger, trying hard to empathise with her. Hermione hesitated but then nodded. "Well then you know that I had no other choice".

"You could have left me to die" she whispered.

"And that's really what you would have wanted?" he asked her softly.

"I- I don't know. The thought of you, and well, you know, for the rest of my life...", she trailed off, "I just don't know whether I can bare it".

Snape couldn't help but feel the sting of rejection, even after all these years it was still a hurt which he could just not get over, even if she was entirely justified in what she said. Burying his feelings deep inside of him, as he always did, he stepped forward, raising a hand to her. Quickly she straightened and righted her wand so that it nearly touched his chest.

"You asked me to trust you." Snape nodded. "Why?"

"You know why"

"No, all I know is that you asked me to trust you, I gave my trust, and then you violated me like some dirty street whore". Snape was again shocked by her strong words, although he refrained from telling her that she was wrong, he treated those 'dirty street whores' a lot worse than he had dealt with her.

"I asked for your trust because I knew that the Dark Lord would in all probabilities make me do something to you that I did not wish to do. I could not have refused him, but that is not to say that I am against you" he explained.

"So what are you then? With us?"

"Yes"

"Then why were you there then? Why did that awful woman speak to you as if you were one of them?"

"Because I am". Hermione took a step backwards, bringing her free hand to her mouth. She looked up at her potions professor with eyes full of fright.

"Who are you?" she asked him finally.

"I am Severus Snape, you know that Miss Granger".

"No, I mean _who_ are you?" she emphasised, searching desperately for answers.

"I am a spy" he said finally after a pause, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark.

"For what side?" Snape snorted.

"I will let you decide that one Miss Granger" he retorted back.

Hermione remained where she was, in shock from Snape's current admission. Was he really a spy? Could he possibly be working for both Voldemort and Dumbledore and in which case, did that make him a double spy, or even a triple spy?

"You can see my memories?" she asked him quietly. He nodded respectfully.

"Yes"

"And you will pass them onto you-know-who?" Snape looked thoughtful for a minute, as if trying to find the words to say.

"Yes, I must pass them on, although I can tell you that they will not be of significance to him"

"But there will be other times, won't there? You'll always be able to see my memories now won't you?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so. Like you seem to know already, the spell will only be broken by death" he explained to her, confirming what she already knew. "I will share your memories each time the bond is renewed, until such time as it is broken". Her heart sank at hearing him say it out loud. Even though she knew well what he said, she had always held out a silent hope that perhaps the connection could be ended by the choice of the Master, as the book had called it. She tried to push away her disappointment, determined not to cry in front of him, and instead asked a question which had been playing on her mind since the day of their library visit.

"I don't get it though. Why not just use occlumency when I was caught to find out where Harry is?" Surely the whole process who had been easier than the whole binding ritual and yield better results. In the short term anyway.

"The Dark Lord did not get to the position of power that he is in by being purely a creature of evil and malice, Miss Granger; he has an intelligence that would surpass maybe even the Headmasters. He knew that by performing the binding he would have constant checks on you, and therefore Potter as well. You are right though, he could well have used occlumecy on you to find out Potter's whereabouts and activities, but the brain is a fragile thing and the use of occlumency on you, at your state at the time, would most likely have yielded little results and damaged the brain forever. So you see, that was his choice: occlumecy once or the binding for all of time. He chose, as well you know, binding". Snape turned and walked towards the centre of the room, placing the glass of water on a small coffee table. He rummaged through one of the bookshelves and finally pulled out a familiar book: small, with a light blue cloth binding. "I take it you have seen this before?" he asked Hermione who had now lowered her wand. She nodded. "I also take it that Potter and Weasley do not know exactly what has happened to you".

Hermione gulped, her throat parchment dry. "I didn't want them to know. You - you didn't tell them did you? Where even are they?"

"They will be back, I can promise you that. And no Miss Granger, I did not tell them, although I cannot pretend to not be curious at your reasons for not telling them the entire truth".

"You wouldn't understand" she said, shrugging her shoulders. Snape decided not to press the matter further and merely said nothing. "What happens now?" she asked after a time, watching him as he relit the fire in the hearth.

"You return to your friends Miss Granger" he said with his back to her, concentrating on getting the flames going.

"But I'll have to come back at some point, won't I?"

"Yes, you will. I can't say how long it will be though". He stood up and turned around to face her. Her cheeks were ashen and he couldn't help but feel a strong sense of pity for her as she remained huddled against the wall, looking decidedly lost and helpless. But there was something else there too.

She was _his_ now - technically anyway. He was her 'Master', and for some reason, that excited him and disgusted him in equal measures.

She stared back at him, confused. He could not even attempt to explain how he was feeling right now. He had had power over others before, countless others in fact, but this time his power over her seemed intoxicating. Was it merely because of the connection between the two of them, a sense that he would never physically be alone again unless she perished, or was it merely because his Dark side could always manage to break through the surface of any facade he made for himself? He did not know, but he sat down quickly into one of the armchairs when he realised that his growing erection was pressing against the soft material of his trousers.

"Go back to bed Miss Granger" he said to her, his voice void of any emotion, a skill he had honed over the years to almost perfection. He half expected her to put up a fight, but surprisingly she agreed. Before she reached the door though she turned back to face him.

"I know you didn't ask for this, the same way that I didn't. I know there is only one way for me to stay alive. But that doesn't change the way I feel Sir. I cannot help but hate you". She muttered her soft confession and then slipped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Snape let his head fall to his hands, his erection well and truly gone.


End file.
